Kiss That Girl
by Lexie Jayne
Summary: Prequel to 'Five Shades of Grey'. Lexy deals with life after the escape and tries to understand how she fits in, and what her relationship with her fellow X5 Tawny really is. SK, JZ
1. Chapter One

**Title: **Kiss That Girl

**Author: **Alexandra Bruderlin

**Pairings: **OC/OC, Syl/Krit, Zack?

**Author's Notes:** So, I couldn't get anything Christmasy out. I guess I'm not feeling very festive this year, so knock yourselves out with nine pages of fic :D Dedication - Love to Shannon and Jacey and Jaz :D Love you guys and I hope you're having a happy Christmas, a Damn fine summer and a Jolly New Year.

**Note (31/10/05):**The characters and pairings for this story were originally established by another author in another story - this was originally a prequel. I have since decided to take this story - and all pairings - and write this story how I envision it. I hope this way, it'll be a better fic.

* * *

_So you can kiss that girl good-bye. So you can kiss this girl good-bye.  
_  
I felt wonderful, like I was floating. I close my eyes, and I'm swimming in a blue pool. I surface, water running down my face. Clouds, the Good Place. I see Eva, except she's got long brown hair. And she's with the Blue Lady. I want to scream for Eva and for the Blue Lady. . .

But, I ended up choking on my words, the impact of Glen's fist on my head. The bone of my skull buckles but does not cave in. I grit my teeth, wishing I could float again. Sue and two-year-old Maddy are hunched in one corner, behind a lounge chair. They are scared, waiting for their turn. We always take turns at this, no matter the cause or effect. The longer I stay conscious, continue standing up; he will stay away from them.

Glen's yelling brings me back to reality as I'm kicked several times. Yet, I still struggle to my feet. And wait for the final blow. It comes; the dull smack of his fist to my skinny little stomach. I double up, more out of habit that pain and huddle behind the couch.

I'm only a little girl.a little girl.no, I'm not just a little girl. I'm hardly even a girl. I close my eyes again.

This time, the colours are too bright for me. Everything is melting, slippery and making me feel sick. I reach to my poor head. The melting colours are wet, like paint. There's lots of red. Too much red. Like the night Eva died. Everything is spinning and there are blurred streaks of red and white before my eyes.

"Ally." Sue, my foster mother, is standing over me, cradling Maddy. "He broke her arm. Do you need to come to the ER with us?"

I stare at Sue, her red brown curls always hiding her bruises and scars. Not that anyone can stop Glen without Sue's consent. I shake my head and manage to stand, the feeling in my whole body down to the absolute minimum. All I can see on my torso is blood - legs, arms, clothes and I can feel the blood mingled with sweat on my face. I limp to the bathroom, with its tacky blue porcelain bath and sink, with huge red flowers splashed around, more like blood smears than some sort of appealing tile design.

I sit on the light blue toilet, holding a small mirror in one hand, a wad of toilet paper in the other. I slowly and methodically wipe the blood from my face, fingering the worst of the bruises and cuts. A chunk out of my cheek, from his wedding ring. It makes me look hideous and I smooth a piece of gauze over it, like it can be a replacement for the mutilated flesh. I am X5, I do not scar. It two days, my cheek will be back to its creamy and smooth self. But I cannot think like that. I am practically deformed today.

I sit on the toilet, hot sticky summer air blowing through the tiny window about me. My clothes feel too tight all of a sudden, and I lean over to run a bath. Glen has gone, back to the pub or the liquor store, where he can try and give his sorrows alcohol poisoning. The house is empty and I am left alone to take my cold bath - no one in this neighborhood has either hot water or air-conditioning, which sort of works itself out.

Washing the cuts and bruises makes me feel vaguely satisfied. I hold the sponge and soap in my hand, positively scrubbing my skin raw before I can even make myself feel clean. But my raw skin and clean cuts, the bruises littering my body stand out even more now - the ones on my ribcage are the worse of all - my chest and stomach are nothing but green, black, purple and yellow smudges. Pain rips across me every time I reach for the soap or the sponge. But it's not agony pain, it's like a good pain, one that I almost enjoy causing myself. I drop the soap, push away the sponge, just so I can feel the pain.

The pain makes me feel real, and it means I am normal. There is a girl in my class at school, her name is Gina. Her father hits her and she's not an X5, the Blue Lady doesn't come to her at night. Being hit makes me like Gina and Gina is Ordinary.

I climb out of the bath, wrapping myself in a huge, worn out cream coloured towel. I dry off, tugging a comb through my hair - longer now, past my shoulders, a weight I love. I let my hair hang loose, wet tendrils sticking to my back. It's a nice colour - a dull brown colour with natural streaks of light brown and auburn-like bits.

I gingerly tug on my dusty, blood stained t shirt and shorts, and creep to the bedroom Maddy and I share - a crib in one corner, my cot tucked behind the door, all my clothes kept in a laundry basket under my bed. My schoolbooks are stacked on the windowsill. It's a small, dull little room, with several cutouts pasted on the walls by Sue; mainly Winnie the Pooh, for Maddy. But over my bed, Sue's stuck colourful pictures of flowers and famous people. I don't know one from the other, but they are a comfort, because another girl at school, Katy, has the same pictures stuck on her books and desk.

I curl up on my bed, smelling the sheets, the blanket and the pillow; all scented with the vanilla soap bubbles that Sue uses to wash things in. I recognize it now; Zack used to smell of gunpowder, Syl used to smell of antiseptic (from all her time in psy-ops and in the infirmary) and Tawny used to smell of the coffee Lydecker sent with us, on long training missions. Not like the coffee Sue and Glen drink, that's different to Manticore coffee. I can't drink Ordinary coffee.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind totally blank. Just black. I feel isolated and .shattered. Like someone took my soul and smashed it up, like a broken mirror. God, why do I stay here? I could run away and maybe join the circus as a freak. Anything else has to be better than this. Even being on of the ones who stayed back at Manticore. Did Jondy and Mish make it out? Mish properly loved Jondy, like the love I read about in the Shakespeare books.

My legs won't move and I try to relax enough to sleep. The sleep comes in small fits. Balmy nights and beautiful white satin dresses. I can smell flowers. Someone is gripping me, hugging me, so I can't go. My brothers and sisters. I can't make out their faces but I relax, feeling safe in their arms. I want to cling tightly to them but my grip keeps slipping. I can see their eyes, their grins and hear their voices, their laughter.Zack, Max, Zane, Trey and Ben. Then, there is the Blue Lady, here with me. I try and look at her face; the most beautiful face on Earth and beyond. I try and beg her to take me away to the Good Place with Eva and Jack. But, as I grip her skirts, I almost cower; they feel coarse, like sandpaper. I cry noises at her.

I jerk awake in pain, as I'm half thrown, half dragged off my bed by Glen, who reeks of something - whiskey, I think Sue called it - so strongly, that I long to gag. The stench of the alcohol reminds me of something that I can't quite remember.

I kick my foot out and my hand shoots out, to regain my balance. My hand meets something solid - well, semi-solid - and after a split second, that object crumples like a tissue. Something wet and sticky coats my hand and arm, as I collapse back against the wall, hunching over.

Glen has his back to me, and is breathing shallowly, with short sob-like noises in between.

"Bitch," Glen spat at me, kicking me hard in the knee. "Broke my fucking nose."

I tensed up, frozen in that moment. Blood spurted from his nose, and I realize with some degree of mortification, that the stickiness of my arm and hand is not sweat or water from my hair, but Glen's blood. His eyes are wide with fury, His nose seemed almost flat. And his mouth was nothing more than a mean little dent in his face. With one hand cupped around his nose, Glen raises his other fist. I close my eyes as an explosion hit my skull. Please, Blue Lady, please...

I am something beautiful. I can see stars and rainbows. Nothing can touch me. I am shiny, glittery and cool. Drips slide off me. Not sweat or blood or tears. Something pure and brilliant. Not hot. Never ever hot or even lukewarm. I am light. I am clarity. I am an icicle, a princess of ice. Not blue, but white. I am white and cold.

My eyes open and I am alone. For a moment, I am still the icicle. Cold and smooth and perfect. Then the floodgates burst. My clothes and body are sweaty and revolting. Shards of remembrance hit me and the beating, the pain and the words are there. Making the air in the room heavy with something akin to regret. Or maybe pity.

I struggle to my feet, wincing and glancing at my right leg and bite back a sob. From my knee to my ankle, it is so tender than I know Glen tried to break my leg. My whole body aches, but not with good pain. With the worst pain of all. Is this how Eva and Jack felt when they went to the Good Place? Is the Good Place worth this?

I turn around and with a wave of nausea, I see blood staining the wall and carpet; it's my blood, I can smell it. And the house is silent; I can have a shower.

But something stops me in my tracks. The lingering smell of whiskey and I can remember it all. I can smell the black coffee, imprinted on my memory. I can see Tawny's eyes, glinting gold at me. His grin and his arms tightly around me. Kissing my cheek, crawling into bed with me - and Jace, and Krit. Jace, Krit and I were the smallest, and Tawny was one of the biggest, so he was always making sure our nightmares weren't too bad. Oh, Syl and Jack and Brin were just as small as we were, but Eva looked after them.

I open my eyes. I know Tawny didn't get out; I can't really think about him anymore because I'd cry and I'm not allowed to cry. Ever. Zack's orders.

I run the shower, climbing in fully dressed this time. I scrub at every available inch of flesh, not bothering to even try to clean my torso, the pain just too much for my eleven-year-old tolerance. I scrub until the blood red water runs clear and I then braid my hair tightly to my scalp, it's a liability and I won't wear it loose again. Ever. I peel off my wet clothes and try to rinse the blood off of them, but the stains had set. Even Sue's vanilla soap probably couldn't save them.

I found a relatively clean nightdress and pulled that on. My leg was so sore but I could walk on it; X5s learnt to deal. Like when Tinga broke her leg and Max set it, and Tinga walked four of the five kilometers home, unassisted. I crawl under the covers and sink into the lumpy mattress - in this case, the lumps are good, because they support my injured leg. I wish aspirin worked for me, but it doesn't. Neither do any other over the counter painkillers.

I lie straight in bed, hot and sticky but scared, if I unwrap some of my blankets, Glen will reappear. I will sleep to take me and it does. My nightmares are full of recollections of the last hour. His voice calling me all sorts of names - some I don't even know the meaning of, but I should because sometimes the kids at school call me the same names. I am nothing, utterly useless. I should die. I wish I could, but even two years on the Outside has taught me very little on matters of life, death, love and right and wrong. I don't truly understand what death is to Ordinaries. But to me, it's being with my brothers and sisters, being safe with the Blue Lady.

I'm stupid, a mistake. An ugly monster. A slut. I see red streaks and the Dog that attacked Syl. I see Psy-Ops and Dr Anselm. I choked until the light comes and there She is.but the Blue Lady's gown is even rougher than before and just reaching for her skirt. cuts up my palms

"Alexis." No, my siblings would call me Lex or Lexy. Not Alexis. Ali was one of the boys. "Ally."

Sue is standing over me, her face angry and tense. Light from the hallway spills into our room and I sit up, my blankets falling from around me. I gaze at my reflection in the windows, among the raindrops. I look nothing more than a haunted little girl.

"Yes?" I say in a soft voice. I can hear Maddy breathing from her cot, and I know she is already asleep. "Is Maddy okay now?"

"Maddy will be wearing a cast for six weeks; possibly more," Sue said in an even voice. "She's already asleep, so don't talk too loud."

"Oh, I'm glad she's okay," I hear myself say, peeling layers of sticky sheets and blankets off my sweat-sodden body.

"Alexis, what did you do to Glen?" Sue asks me. "He was in ER with a shattered nose, with a story that he got in a bar fight. When I asked him, all he mumbled that you had done this to him and he had adequately punished you."

I rub my eyes. "Um, he came in here.to talk and I sort of.fell off the bed and I tried to get my balance and I kind of kicked Glen in the nose. It was an honest accident. And yes, he did.punish me. I am really sorry," I whisper, my head aching.

"Oh. Okay then." Both Sue and I know that what I've just said is a fractured version of the truth. But if anyone in this house tells the truth, the warm blanket of security will be ripped off and they'll be exposed to the bitter cold of reality.

I always liked the cold.

"You are clumsy for an eleven-year old. As long as you have been punished for causing such an accident," Sue says in a blank voice. X5s are the most graceful beings on the planet. I am not clumsy. I completely refuse to be dubbed clumsy by anyone.

"I have been and yes, I am clumsy." I feel so tired. I shift my weight and my leg shoots with pain, my ribs contracting and I almost squeak with pain. Is this what it feels like to be crippled? No, this is far too painful. Colonel Lydecker would be so disappointed to know I was admitting pain from a beating. I should be taking nine billion times more than this before admitting to pain.

I should be defending myself.

"It's 2 a.m., Ally. You need to sleep; you're going to school in the morning." Sue kisses Maddy on the cheek and closes the door behind her. I lie back. Another hour of sleep and I'll be refreshed. But I have to stay in bed till at least am - Glen's rules.

I lie there, trying to doze, to get the Blue Lady back, just to do something. At around 4 a.m. (X5s have an excellent sense of time) I heard Glen stumble in, swearing and belching. Please, Blue Lady, don't let him come up here.remember, third time lucky? I am lucky, Glen slams a door, and he's gone to bed. And I manage a bit of sleep.

I am free and beautiful. I can not be harmed and I can escape anyone and everyone. No one will ever catch me and I can't take orders. My world is flowers and love. I am a butterfly.a flutter by.with huge wings of purples and pinks and yellows. So bright and lovely, that I am Peace.

The Breakfast Table. It is always awful. Glen is sober, Sue is scared and angry and I am silent. There is lumpy cereal for breakfast, like the old Manticore breakfast. Today it is porridge, and the milk is sour. Sue cannot cook and I have always wanted to try proper food like doughnuts, pop tarts, bacon and eggs, French toast, waffles and pancakes, like every other child in my class. But no.

I am dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt, my hair in a braid, to cover my barcode. I have a light blue hat crammed on my head. My leg is not half as sore as it was last night, but still has bad bruising. I would wear jeans, so no one asks questions, but my jeans are too tight and too small. Sue gave me some hissed demands to tell anyone asks about the bruises on my face, legs and arms to say I fell off my bike - which Glen pulled out from the shed yesterday. Damn, if I had actually ridden that rust bucket and fallen off, I would've lost my legs. But Glen said I could clean it up and ride it myself until Maddy grows into it. I agreed because it would be a pretty damn easy thing to do and it was something an Ordinary child would do.

"Aren't talking this morning, Alexis?" Glen booms, his mouth full of a raspberry jelly doughnut - all the doughnuts are his, no one else is allowed to even breathe on them.

"She's a sulky little madam," Sue said. "Stop pushing your cereal around, Alexis, and eat it."

I gaze at my foster parents - Sue, which her curly hair in a messy ponytail and a scowl on her face, along with a great many bruises. And Glen, with his swollen lump of a nose under a hunk of plaster tape stuff, his waxy moustache sticky with the jam and his grey eyes resentful.

"Sorry, Sue. I'm not feeling well," I lied, in a husky little voice. "I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"You'd better go to bed early tonight, then, Ally," Sue whisked away my bowl, placing a glass of milk on the table for me. "Drink your milk."

I swallow it in one gulp because I hate milk, 'specially now, after the Pulse - it was watered down and more grey-ish than white. Nicole, at school, brings natty little single serve bottles of milk and it's pure white. So maybe the milk Sue buys is some cheap alternative.

"You'd better go to school, Alexis. I liked school. Do you?" Glen demands, starting on a chocolate sprinkle doughnut.

"Yes, it's fun and I learn stuff," I say, eyeing a strawberry doughnut with bits of chocolate stuck on it. "Can I please have a doughnut?"

Glen and Sue looked at me. "Alexis," Glen started. "You just told Sue that you were far too sick to even finish your cereal. Now you are asking for some 'fun' food. Something is not right here. Now, either finish your porridge and then you might be able to have half of a doughnut. Or you may now go to school."

Sue and Glen watched me carefully. I picked up my books and my little bag, and scooped up my lunch money. "That cereal was rancid," I hissed. "They wouldn't feed that to rats, let alone a child." Glen rose before me, in fury. I scarpered, my sneakers pounding the pavement. I'll be killed when I get home. I remember when I came here, and Glen actually threw Sue down the stairs. It was scary.

My right leg buckled, pain shooting through my whole body as I crumpled onto the sidewalk, my books falling into the gutter. My palms and knees were grazed, but that never ever fazed. My chest tightened with pain and I sat there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. Everyone else working down the streets ignored me, the poor injured little girl stuck in a nightmare. Manticore was never ever this bad.

I heard the school bell ring and gathered up my books, half runny, half limping the last block, to the cold prison that was my school. I'm serious - Blackwell Street School was a correctional facility before the Pulse. It's a place where concrete rules. School reminds me of Manticore. Six huge grey brick buildings loom up out of concrete ground. No trees or grass. Just a rusted out jungle gym and a lot of metal rubbish bins.

My sneakers smack the lino as I climb the stairs to the third floor, where my class is. Sixth Grade. I could be doing advanced university courses but no. I'm in the Sixth Grade. Our door has a poster declaring 'Ms Wu and Sixth Grade' in bright colours, with wonky drawings of flowers, stars and my classmates. My one contribution to the poster is a small daisy, carefully drawn in pencil. No colour.

I push the door open and everyone is still talking and running around. Ms Wu looks at me and my bloody limbs.

"Oh, Alexis! What happened?" she comes over, concerned.

"I fell over," I say in a quiet voice.

"All those bruises?" Ms Wu's voice is like steel.

"No, I did that yesterday. Fell off my bike when I hit a rock." My eyes are wide and I look innocent. I am. I have done nothing wrong here. I am the victim. "Run along to the bathroom and clean up those knees. You know, Alexis, if you ever want to talk, just come and talk to Mr Bayne, the counselor or me -. We can help you, if you really need it. Oh, and when you come back - we'll be working on our spelling."

I nod and go down to the bathroom - a blue and grey room with twelve white sinks, twelve soap dispensers, twelve toilets and two paper towel dispensers - one at each end of the bathroom. I methodically pull three squares of paper toweling out, dampen it and wipe the blood from my knees and my palms. Six squares of paper towel for each knee and hand. Then I threw out the paper and moved towards the door.

Where there was an old security camera. And a grin spread across my face. In a very neat way, in a Spiderman-esque move, I crawled up the doorframe, balancing there, across the corner. I pulled the camera from the roof, leaving a patch of clean, white wall amongst the grey, peeling wall - only a small hole was left, from where the wires went.

It was only a small camera, and I slipped back to class. Luckily, Ms Wu was busy marking our Geography assignments, so I slipped into the classroom and crammed the camera into my desk - under last week's math homework, a History essay and three weeks of chocolate and bubble gum wrappers.

My mind wandered, as I wrote out my spelling. This wasn't like a Manticore classroom - people held whispered conversations, passed notes and Jerry was devouring a packet of M & Ms behind his books. Gina saw me looking around and gave me a small smile. I smiled back, before focusing on my notebook. My handwriting looked more like something from a computer printout. Lydecker forced us to practice our handwriting until it was practically a computer font.

At 10:15, after an hour of working on spelling I'd memorized when I was three, Ms Wu motioned for Katy to stand up. Katy is so beautiful - curly blonde hair and beautiful coloured miniskirts.

"Today is Katy's twelfth birthday and she brought a cake to class, to share with all of you. Now, Katy, can you divide the cake into.lets see, thirty five slices," Ms Wu smiled.

Katy nodded and I saw the wonderful cake - it was chocolate, with yellow coloured icing and beautiful pink and white sugar roses. When she offered a slice to me, I took a tiny piece, nibbling in it. Even three years outside of Manticore hadn't accustomed me to more than two meals a day or things like cake.

Katy then told us that her mum had made the cake and would pass on all the compliments. I wish I knew my birthday. Because I don't, I only celebrate Christmas, sort of. And Sue would never ever make or buy me cake for school.

I go to the bathrooms during recess, the one in E Block, where no body goes - it's gross. Graffiti, broken sink and toilets. In winter, girls use it to smoke. But it's too hot at the moment.

I curl up on one of the blue benches. I am nobody. I am useless. A freak. I am a freak. I am a nothing in this world. A nothing. I wanna be with Eva and Jack in the Good Place. I wanna be back at Manticore. Manticore was safe and, at least we were together. I am dying here. I want to die, what use am I alive?

Who am I? What am I? A monster, a freak. I'm practically a robot. This time, I cannon stop the tears that are rolling down my face.


	2. Chapter Two

AN: The next chapter of Lexy's adventures. Thanks to Jacey and Shannon - inspiration came from your fics and you. You both rock and I love you, and if I'm lucky, I'll be half as talented as you both. Thanks to Kara, who created Tawny. Thanks again to Jacey who created Trey and Rai. And to Leila, because there is no way I'll be able to write a 56 page fan fic without one anti-GC remark.  
  
I gotta do something about my review addiction; but its safer if I don't quit cold turkey *g*. So, please review.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Summer is here. Has been for two weeks. Over a month has passed since my breakdown in the E Block bathrooms. I've never felt so sad in my life. I am a pathetic Thing.  
  
But the bike looks a heap better now - I painted it red. The front wheel is bent, but it works well enough to take me to the park or the shop for an ice cream.  
  
I sit in the grass at the park, making a daisy chain. My hair is loose, covering my barcode, and I'm wearing an old red sundress and black sandals. The bike is next to me, and I'm watching Gina and Katy talk to two boys in our class - Jerry and Tim. Gina and Katy have padded their training bras and their skirts are so short, they almost show their underwear.  
  
Sex, is what we learnt about in school before summer and it's gross and scary and I swear I'll never ever do it with any man. I had a dream the other night I was doing It with a guy and he was smothering me. I was choking and dying underneath him. I'm never going to be anything more than a little girl. I swear to myself. I am completely petrified that something will happen and I'll have to have sex with someone.  
  
"Hello, Alexis," Gina walks past, arm in arm with Jerry, while Katy is smirking, on the arm of Tim. "Having a nice summer?"  
  
"Um, sort of," I answer in a soft voice, Gina and Katy already walking off and having already forgotten about me in the grass. I lie back in the grass, watching the clouds float in the sky. There will be a storm tonight; I can smell it in the air. It smells like an end and a beginning in one. Old and new starts.  
  
A dog barking quite close to me makes me scramble to my feet, grabbing my bike to put it between me and the dog wherever it was, if he attacked me. I hate, detest, and loathe all canine-esque animals.  
  
The dog was a Dalmatian, with a pink leather colour around its neck. I was huddled behind the bike. Syl being pushed against the rocks at Manticore by the German Shepherd. The dog tearing at Syl's flesh, her screams and cries - like a kitten. Krit and Tawny are pulling the dog off her, Jondy and I scrambling to help them. I can smell the blood as Zane shoots the dog and Syl's blood all over the rocks and ground. Syl's small, six-year old body lying completely still - and Eva and Krit are crying over her. Get the dog away from me! There is no one here to save me. Blue Lady.!  
  
"So sorry!" The woman who owns the dog runs over, pulling the dog away from me. "Poppy is only a puppy! She won't bite, she's quite playful."  
  
"No, I am very.allergic to all dogs," I stammered in my quiet, odd sounding little voice I had somewhere acquired this summer. It was a very passive little voice. Weak, pathetic and soppy - useless like me. Pointless and a waste of oxygen.  
  
The lady attached that beast to a leash, giving me a funny look. I climbed onto my bike and rode away as fast as a possibly could. Faster, faster, faster I ride, and then the beast won't get me. Won't tear me apart like the Dog tried to do to Syl.  
  
My bike hits something; the crunching noise suggests a soda can; and I fly off, rolling into the gutter. I whack my head against the edge of the sidewalk. I blink and sit up, rubbing my head. I can feel a sticky lump of blood tangled in my hair. My head hurts worse than ever. I've skinned my left knee, and my elbow.  
  
The bike.  
  
Oh, no. It's in the gutter, too, all scraped up and an absolute mess. Glen will absolutely murder me - literally. Only last week, Glen threw me against the solid pine kitchen table.  
  
I scramble to my feet, aching all over my poor little body. I'm tall and wirey and bruise so easily. Luckily, I also have the wonderful X5 ability of fast healing. I should be healed up in 24 hours.  
  
I wheel the bike home, pretty much limping the entire way. I know something. Maybe it's the storm coming, maybe the fall. Ben's Blue Lady doesn't exist. Maybe I always knew that the Blue Lady didn't exist, but I didn't have to admit it to myself before now. Maybe I'm a nomalie. I wish I had proper friends and actual family. I wish my siblings and I could actually be together. What's the point of being free, being Outside if we're alone and slowly dying? Why do I have to be by myself?  
  
It began to rain just as I made it home. I love rain, and the cold. It feels clean and fresher and safer. The heat chokes me and tries to suffocate and kill me.  
  
I left the scratched up bike in the shed, going to the bathroom, to wipe up my blood and bandage myself up. The white bandage stains instantly and I want to rewrap my bandages so that they are white but there aren't any left.  
  
The antiseptic stings as I smear it across my elbow. Then I go downstairs. Sue and Maddy are out, visiting Sue's sister. Glen is either at work or at a bar. I'm allowed to eat lunch - nothing exciting, or even nice, just some stale bread and peanut butter. Maybe some jelly or a couple of biscuits. I'd love some ice cream; I haven't had one in so long.  
  
I switch on the TV, nibbling on the corner of my sandwich, and watching the television; some wishy-washy pre-Pulse soap opera. It wasn't at all interesting, but it held my attention for awhile. It was so hot and I went upstairs to my room - Sue had bought a fan, for Maddy, and it greatly helped most days - and nights.  
  
I lay on my bed, my eyes closed. Trying to cool down, it was so hot . . . so, so hot. . .  
  
"X5-663."  
  
I almost jumped out of my skin at that. I tumbled to the floor, in a defensive position, my gaze scanning the room for The Enemy, in ready position, and my gaze finally rested on the window. Where there was someone I would never forget. . .  
  
"Lexy." Zack's face broke into a grin for a split second. "Come on. We need to get you out of here now."  
  
I froze. "Do I need my clothes?"  
  
"Cram as much stuff in a bag now, give it to me and I'll meet you with the car and the bags outside the hardware store. You leave the house normally. Understand, Lexy?"  
  
"Yes, sir." I dreamt of just being able to hug my siblings but now Zack's here, I don't feel like I have that right. He's. . .everything I remember, right down to the Zack-scent of gunpowder and coffee. This is my Big Brother.  
  
As I empty my school bag of all the bits and pieces and start to cram in my clothes and shoes - and my hairbrush, I wonder where Zack has been all this time. Did he run away from a foster home? Or has he been finding all of us? I wonder how many of us got out.Chi and Trey and Remi and Ben and Cora. . .Jace and Brin and Jondy.  
  
"Okay. Hardware Store in ten minutes, Lex." Zack takes the bag from me and vanishes from the window.  
  
Downstairs, a door slams. I can tell by the heavy footsteps on the lino that it's Glen that's home.  
  
"Alexis! What the hell happened to Maddy's bike?"  
  
I close my eyes and take a breath. I slipped forwards and walked down to the landing. "I almost got ran over and fell off the bike. I'm sorry, I'll fix it." I almost gagged as Glen got closer and the stench of cigarettes and vomit and alcohol overtook my senses.  
  
"Fix it? Might as well throw out the shit heap now! That was my father's bike when he was a goddamned kid, you little brat!" Glen stood on the landing with me. His bulk took up most of the space, my heals were hanging off the top step, thanks to my cat-like balance. "Take all our money, sleep in our house, eat our food and break my nose and you couldn't give a damn, little slut. Have a boy up in that room of Maddy's, dontcha, whore?"  
  
I whimpered. I need to go or Zack will leave me behind and I'll be stuck here forever and ever. Manticore. I wanna go back to Manticore; I wanna go back to Manticore. I wanna go back to Manticore!  
  
Glen gripped my forearm, dragging me closer. "What did you say, Alexis?"  
  
"N-Nothing."  
  
"'You don't have anything to say to me, allowing you to suck the life out of this godforsaken household? Ruin my family, you do!"  
  
The first punch managed to blur my vision up and I crumpled in a heap. Two, three, ten. .  
  
"The Nomalies will get you," I managed to shriek out, as Glen broke another two of my ribs. "The Blue Lady'll save me and the Nomalies will suck your blood!" Zack's gone and left me here. I'm gonna be a Nomalie. I want Eva.  
  
I want my mommy.  
  
Both of us went silent for different reasons - Glen, to make sense of my ramblings. Me, because I'd never felt that desperate need to be with my mother. How would I know what a proper mom was?  
  
No, I want my big brother to save me and I want him NOW!  
  
"Blue Lady? Nomalies?" Glen was getting angrier. "This is the last time you'll ever make trouble for me - or anyone else."  
  
Maybe it was the piercing scream I uttered as Glen threw me down the stairs. Each X5 has a special cry. Mine in particular sounds a bit like a cross between a bird and a kitten. It's very high pitched.  
  
I went sailing through the air - flying, it felt like peace - and then I hit the lino floor, my body limp like a rag doll, my head cracking against the plaster wall. The slap of my bare legs hitting the lino at a great speed. I lay still, pain throbbing through my body, waiting for it all to end. Death. I know what Death is. It's Not Being. It's not being Ordinary or Chimera, or X5 or a Nomalie or being with the Blue Lady and Eva and Ben, it's fading away forever and ever, leave me alone I want my family I wanna be. . . Don't, Glen, I'm just a little girl. I never hurt you. Not ever on purpose. I'll be good, I swear. I love Maddy; she's almost my baby sister. Please, Glen. . .  
  
The final blow did not come. I waited, tense and choking down painful sobs. Zack's gone and left me and he'll never know how I was made Dead.  
  
No, it never came. I waited and then the sound of something splintering and a loud noise. I opened my eyes. Zack was hurting Glen. The Enemy. Zack didn't leave me behind. He came back for me.  
  
Zack loves me, I'm his Baby Sister.  
  
Maybe, maybe if I'd admitted to myself that the Blue Lady didn't exist before today, Zack would've come for me sooner. What if. . .  
  
Finally, Glen was slumped on the landing, and Zack turned to me, his expression unreadable. "Can you walk, Lexy?"  
  
"I think so." I scrambled to my shaky legs. "We need to get away before Sue and Maddy get home, Zack."  
  
"Lets go," Zack motioned I follow him out into the street. I was tense for three blocks, for Glen's furious roar and Sue's wail . . .nothing.  
  
The car was a small, ordinary one, and Zack motioned I get in. I did, very quickly. No one can see me.  
  
We drove in silence for two hours. Then Zack began relaxing.  
  
"Are you okay, Lexy? Not injured?" He inquired.  
  
"Nothing serious."  
  
"What are the injuries you did sustain?"  
  
"Sprained wrist, various cuts and bruises."  
  
"We'll stop in a few hours for food. If you want to, you can sleep," Zack's giving me a funny look. I nod and curl up in a ball. My legs and arms are streaked with blood and bruises, under a layer of dirt, grime and dust. And my hair is tangled and gross.  
  
There is some broken sleep, blank of dreams and nightmares. Just rest. When I woke up, I felt quite a bit better and stretched.  
  
"How are you feeling, Lex?"  
  
"Better. A lot better." I reach for my bag, at my feet, and fumble for a pair of shoes and a hairbrush. I am so dirty and I would love a shower. But I brush my hair and put my shoes on - flat little red sandals. Stupid shoes but my sneakers are crammed deep in the bag and Zack is already pulling up at a roadside diner.  
  
"Coming, Lexy?"  
  
Zack walks next to me, his whole stance screaming defensive and protection. We slide into a booth and a waitress comes over, with small paper menus. I am very tired and sore and really don't care what I eat. Zack understands this and orders for me. We are alone to talk.  
  
"Why did you save me, Zack?" I ask, staring at the road to nowhere. No, the road to El Dorado. Wasn't El Dorado an idea of paradise or something? I don't remember.  
  
"Lydecker is searching for the X5s who escaped. And he was on your trail. You'll be moved and he'll never know," Zack says.  
  
"Who got out that night, Zack?"  
  
"Twelve got out that night - among them were you, Syl, Zane and Jondy," Zack said. "I'm still trying the track down the others."  
  
I nodded and the waitress saved us from any uncomfortable silences by bringing our meals. Zack had ordered us both hamburgers and milkshakes. He obviously knew the way to my heart was through copious amounts of junk food. Mmm, and the milkshake was chocolate.  
  
"I am really sorry, Lex," Zack looked at me almost affectionately. "That I didn't get you out of that hell hole sooner. How bad was it?"  
  
Something in his eyes made me decide to be honest. "Some days I wanted to go back to Manticore. And I wanted to be with Eva and Jack and the Blue Lady. But I think I'm okay."  
  
Zack nodded, looking satisfied and we both dug into the food. It wasn't exactly five-star, but it was filling and it was hot. So, I was full and warm and all ready to go to sleep. Zack paid and stocked up on drinks and salted snack foods.  
  
"There's a 24-hour motel about an hour away. We'll crash there till midnight."  
  
I nodded and looked at the clock on the wall of the diner. Only 5:30 p.m. So, we'd get about six hours of sleep. That's definitely enough for both of us; I need sleep so my body can start healing.  
  
We climbed back into the car and drove off onto that never-ending paradise- seeking road. We turned up the radio, and I stared out the window.  
  
"Lexy? Is everything okay? You're so. . .quiet. Back at the barracks, you used to talk so much and I used to get so angry with you." I jerked around to look at Zack. He sounded sad.  
  
"I. . .there's not much point talking if there's no one to listen to you," I smiled. "Just dealing. And being thrown down a flight of stairs kinda takes a lot out of you."  
  
"Half a flight of stairs, baby sister."  
  
"What-ever," I grinned, giving him my best valley-girl impression. "Hurt just the same."  
  
"No, if you'd been thrown down a whole flight of stairs, I'd be concerned. You bounce, Lex."  
  
"I know. We all do," I sat back.  
  
"What is really bothering you, Lex?"  
  
"Did Tawny get out? Do you know where he is? Is he okay?" I babbled, my eyes wide with hope. I love you Tawn, you and I are special. Like Syl and Krit and Jondy and Mish.  
  
"Yes, yes and he's doing well. But for security, I can't tell you anything about his location," Zack said and I knew the discussion was over.  
  
"Thank you, Zack," I smiled and went back to gazing back out the window. Passing. We're leaving something behind and I'll never ever smell that vanilla washing soap again.  
  
The hotel is cheap but acceptable. I have the first shower, which makes me happy. The bathroom is white and maroon and I feel safe. I wash my hair and scrub at the bruises and cuts with the scrubbing brush. By the end of my shower - three minutes - my skin has red blotches all over it - half from the hot water and half from my scrubbing at my skin, to cleanse myself. Finally, I look decent. And because we'll be leaving at midnight, I just put on some clean clothes. I pull on a loose grey top and some red sweatpants, clean socks and my sneakers are left by the door. I pack my bag and braid my hair loosely. I feel better and just want to curl up and sleep.  
  
Zack smiles at me, as I climb onto the bed, wrapping myself in a purple blanket and collapsing into more dreamless sleep.  
  
Someone shakes me awake. Zack. I sit up. A lamp is lit in the hotel room, making it feel so very homey. I glance at the digital clock. 12:07 a.m. Whoops, Zack won't be happy with me. Oh well. I pull on my sneakers and Zack tells me to grab a pillow and the purple blanket. I notice he has left the correct amount of money - with extra for the pillow and blanket - next to the Bible, on the coffee table.  
  
As we speed off into the night, I begin to nod off again. Zack hasn't said anything about me being allowed to sleep some more, but I can't. . . help. . . it. . .  
  
I wake up, and there is sun shining in my face. The blanket is tucked around me and the car clock blinks 6:47 a.m. Zack must've needed a bathroom stop or something to eat.  
  
But he reappears, face expressionless.  
  
"Good morning," he says, his eyes lit with a bit of amusement. "Are you hungry?"  
  
I nod and climb out of the car. My wrist is still a bit tender but I've almost completely healed up. "What were you doing?"  
  
"Siphoning gasoline. Come on. We've got to be in San Francisco soon."  
  
I follow him into the small diner-esque place and we have pancakes, orange juice, coffee and Zack lets me buy a box of chocolate doughnuts, I'll finally get to try one.  
  
I know Zack's taking me to Tawny; he'll look after me and we'll be happy and safe. No one can touch us. It'll be perfect.  
  
I listen to the radio and munch on doughnuts until we finally get to San Francisco. I'm practically bouncing in my seat. Tawny will be so handsome, with actual hair and those wonderful eyes of his.  
  
But I almost feel my heart leap into my mouth when we stop outside a sterile looking building labeled 'Social Services.' And I nearly hurl up pancakes and eight chocolate and sprinkle covered doughnuts.  
  
"What. . .?" I asked, feeling slightly faint.  
  
"You need another foster family, Lexy. What else are you going to do?" Zack rummaged around his pocket, and came up with two things. "Give the social worker this and this is for you, in an emergency." For me, was a thick roll of twenty and fifty dollar notes held with a rubber band. I took the envelope and money.  
  
"I thought you'd save me. I'll die, Zack, I will," my voice wavered.  
  
"Lexy, this one will be okay. Go in and the social worker will be wonderful. I'll see you next time you need me, okay?" Zack said patiently. A deep, cold horror gripped me.  
  
"I'll never see you again, Zack. God, please don't leave me," I begged.  
  
"You will, I promise."  
  
"No, no, no. You promised the Outside would be better and its not, it really isn't," I felt tears on my cheeks.  
  
"Lex, I order you to walk into the social services and get a new foster family," Zack's voice was like steel.  
  
"You're my brother, Zack, you're meant to love me and keep me safe, this doesn't count," I cried. "I trusted you. Take me to Tawny, please, Zack, please."  
  
"Lexy. Get out of this car or I will never speak to you again."  
  
Openly crying, I grabbed my bag and got out. And that is when my Biggest Brother drove off, abandoning me. He left me alone again with no one in the world. I felt like every thing was collapsing on top of me and there was no way to save myself. I'm a child, what can I do?  
  
My blood ran like iced water through my body, but I went into the social service building. I answered all the questions I was asked and I gave the worker Zack's letter. I was virtually silent.  
  
For three hours, I sat on a hard plastic chair with my arms around my bag. I am invisible. I am going to sit here for ten years and no one cares about me. No body loves me. I'm going to die. Zack has no heart.  
  
Maybe it's me. Maybe this is all my fault. I'm unlovable. What is love? I don't love anyone, and no one loves me. I hate Zack. I hate Manticore and I want to die. I hate life. Why me? What is the point? Someone save me.  
  
"Alecia?" the Social Worker appeared, smiling. "Your new foster family has arrived."  
  
I trusted you, Zack. And this doesn't count. 


	3. Chapter Three

AN: Sorry this chapter took so long. This fic is surprisingly hard to write. But we're getting there slowly. I have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen in this fic and all. I found out more about the song this fic is named after - Sheryl Crowe 'Kiss That Girl'.   
  
Reviews are adored and beloved.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom. Its autumn and I've just celebrated my twelfth birthday, November 7th. Two weeks ago now.  
  
My foster family isn't too bad – the third foster family I've had since I've been in San Francisco. This time it's Sarah and Tom Marsden, with their son, Henry. Henry is nine. He's very loud and he's bigger than I am, so I stay away from him. But Tom and Sarah are actually really nice to me, so it's not as bad as any of the others. Only a little bit bad.   
  
I have to go to school today, and that's very scary for me. I began to 'develop' recently, and now my chest and butt stick out too much. I'm wearing jeans and a bra, as I stand in front of the mirror. I reach for a roll of masking tape and begin to wrap it around and around my chest to flatten it. I don't ever want to be one of those girls that the boys whistle at.  
  
I tug my sweatshirt over my head and stand sideways to look in the mirror. Good. There isn't much I can do about my butt, but with masking tape around my bra, my chest looks perfectly flat. I think I'm a Nomalie. I bet Syl or Chi's chest doesn't stick out as much as mine.   
  
"Alecia, time for breakfast!" Sarah's voice calls upstairs.  
  
"Coming!" I call back. I brush my hair – it's longer than my shoulders now – almost to my waist. I jam a blue baseball cap on my head and pull my old sneakers on my feet. I look Ordinary.   
  
I grab my backpack and go down stairs slowly. I'm never hungry anymore and Sarah always makes me eat something – unless I'm late for the bus.   
  
"Alecia?" Tom's friendly face pokes around the corner. "You're being a slow poke. Come on, Sarah's made you some fruit salad. You'll miss your bus."  
  
I nod and follow Tom down to the sunny kitchen silently, at a normal pace. Sarah is still in her dressing gown and Henry is chatting loudly to her.  
  
"Good morning, Alecia," Sarah smiles at me. "There's some fruit salad there for you."  
  
"Thank you, Sarah," I manage a bit of a smile. I perch on a chair, nibbling at a hunk of orange for a bit. My stomach rebels at the first sign of food, but Sarah will force me to eat. I gulp down a glass of juice and push around the hunks of fruit, managing a few more.  
  
"Henry, Alecia, time to go to the bus stop," Tom says as the radio begins the eight o clock news. "Have a good day."  
  
"You too," I say, softly, putting my backpack on my back. Henry clamours for lunch money, while I take my lunch in a brown paper bag. I leave my bowl mostly full, and leave the house. The Marsden family even has a white picket fence around the house.   
  
I walk to the bus stop where Kelly and Mark catch the bus as well. Kelly is very beautiful and wears tiny dresses. Mark always wears shorts. I don't talk to them; I sit on my bag and read a book until the bus comes. When I read, it makes me feel like I don't have to be me anymore and that makes me feel good – not being me, I mean.  
  
I also like music. Tom gave me a Discman thing for my 'birthday' and some Compact Discs. All good music. I like lying on my bed and listening to it when I can't sleep. Which is most nights – there is always a dog in my dreams and he's going to kill me. There is always a lot of blood in my dreams as well.  
  
The big, silver bus pulls up and I pick up my bag to get on. Henry comes sprinting across the street to get on.   
  
I sit at the front. No one can hurt you if you sit here. They pinch and call you names up the back. And the older boys ask you to do sex stuff with them – I didn't know this until Kelly explained it to me. After that, I sat up the front.  
  
Zack's left me by myself. I knew he would, but I really wish he hadn't. Cause I don't hate him, I love him. He's my Big Brother. Maybe I don't need him while I'm here. Because Sarah and Tom don't hit me; Henry does sometimes and then Sarah yells at him like Lydecker used to yell at Zane.  
  
The bus pulls us at my school and I am the first one off. I do not make friends easily and have none here. I am known as the teacher's pet because I have never once forgotten to   
complete my homework. I walk across the lawn, trying not to look at anyone as I cross the grounds to my classroom. I'm still in the sixth grade. Maybe I'll be able to move up to the seventh grade after Christmas. I don't know why I was made to stay back but I don't ask questions about that sort of thing.  
  
My classroom is very colourful and it's sort of smothering. I want to be in the high school now, where I can escape from the classroom to the library. My head aches as I sit at my desk, over near the window and pull out my book. I drift when I read. I have too many thoughts to exist, just me and the pages and words. Stories are always resolved somehow. I'm never resolved.  
  
The bell rings and the thin layer of drifting I've managed to achieve shatters. I feel very real as everyone else races to their desks. I jam my book into my bag and I listen to the teacher.  
  
Why am I here? What is the point? I just want to be dead when I'm older. I want to be free; I want to be crystallized. A statue of something beautiful – I want to be ice. I haven't felt like an icicle in so long. Feeling it now makes me feel new again  
  
The icicle feeling helps me work through the morning – mathematics and history. I can focus on my work and feel untouchable. None of the snide remarks whispered at me can hurt me or touch me. I do my work and daydream and go to the library at recess. I just sit there, looking at all the books around me.  
  
I look up maps of America, and I can trace where I've been since Manticore. A long way. I wonder where Zack is now. I wonder if he's been to every American capitol city. It would be wonderful. Like, it would be real true freedom. Like a dream or something.  
I go back to class and then out to lunch, then more class and finally I am free to go home. I always walk home because I hate the bus. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. And today I'll be at home by myself – Henry has soccer training and Sarah and Tom work till six thirty. I'll be alone in the house until dinnertime.  
  
I take a short cut through the sports oval and I see boys playing baseball. One breaks away to grab the ball that rolls towards me. He has brown hair and green eyes and he smiles at me, like no one has ever smiled at me before.  
  
I smile tentatively back. "Hi."  
  
"Hey." He's grinning quite broadly at me. He is very. . .nice to look at. But his friends are yelling for him to bring the ball back. I give him another smile and keep walking – the sun is quite hot and I want to get home where I'm going to drink orange juice; my greatest joy is orange juice. Like drinking sunlight or something. Even now, the colour of it can hold my gaze for hours.  
  
Home is nice and cool and refreshing. I go straight to my room and I change into shorts and a loose tank top. I walk down stairs and to the kitchen and walk on the cool white kitchen tiles. I just want to sit on them – cool and white and perfect. I just slide down the wall, on to the floor and tears began sliding down my cheeks. Not a sound from me, just tears on my face. I hate being so very alone. I want to be with my Eva. I haven't thought about Eva in so long, she probably hates me. The Blue Lady is nothing to me anymore. No, she is comfort when I am afraid. But I'm not afraid, so I don't have to reach for her skirts now.   
  
Somebody is on the stairs. I sit up straighter and watch the door. Zack's frame is there – he must be at least seventeen now, and looks older and scarier.  
  
"Zack," is all I can say, watching him carefully. He really doesn't care about me, I know that. I'm nothing more than a kid sister, a nuisance. Leave me, Zack. Go find Jondy or Syl and look after them.  
  
"Lexy," he says, in this voice that makes me want to start bawling like a baby. But I stay on the tiles, looking at him. "I thought you'd be okay here."  
  
"And I am okay, Zack," I reply dutifully. He wants me to say that so he won't feel guilty, I know that.  
  
"Stand up and calm down," Zack orders. I do as he says, wiping my eyes on the edge of my top.  
  
"Would you like something to eat or drink?" I ask, opening the enormous fridge Sarah and Tom own.  
  
"Yes please," Zack says. I am silent as I make salad sandwiches and pour two glasses of orange juice.  
  
We sit at the table, opposite each other and I nibble on a corner of a sandwich.  
  
"Tell me about your friends, Lexy," Zack asks gruffly.   
  
"I don't have any friends," I reply, gazing at my plate. "No emotional ties or the mission is compromised."  
  
Zack looks at me with something akin to shock on his face. Why is this so surprising? I am a good soldier Zack that's what you wanted. Or maybe you don't want me at all.  
  
"Lexy, making some acquaintances at school might make you settle a bit more," Zack suggested. "You haven't settled as well as the others."  
  
I look out the window. "I'm sorry – I tried."  
  
"Keep trying, Lexy." He doesn't sound mean, just tired but kind.  
  
I look at him. "How are the others?"  
  
"They're good. Brin is studying at college and Tawny is working at a garage."  
  
"They sound happy."  
  
"They are. But are you?"  
  
I shrug. "I'm alone, Zack. People who are alone are never happy."  
  
"Maybe," Zack stood up, "Maybe you're sick, Lexy. I read about this thing in some of Brin's psych books – you have early signs of adolescent depression, Lexy."  
  
"Well, maybe you should stop reading Brin's stupid books," I retorted. Silence. "What if I do have this adolescent depression thing, what can I do about it? Does it make you sad all the time?"  
  
"Well, you need to talk to someone – a doctor," Zack seemed to be talking to himself more than he was talking to me.  
  
"Well, I cannot do that," I said, getting angry. Wow, it actually felt good. I haven't been properly angry since Eva died. "Yes, tell an Ordinary about Manticore. I can see how Lydecker would never ever track me down if I did *that*."  
  
"Brin will graduate in four years," Zack looked at me. "It's the best I can do for you, Lexy."   
  
"Four years? That's forever," I looked outside.   
  
"I've got to go, Lex," Zack sighed. "I only came to check on you. It'll get better soon, Baby Sister."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," I said sourly. "See ya."  
  
"Bye, Lex." Zack's hand rested on my shoulder for a moment and then he is gone. I am always alone. I know that. Why though? This is so unfair. I don't want to be a sad person anymore. I'm not going to be Lexy-who-is-Alecia anymore. I'm going to be Alecia. I'm going to try and talk to some people at school and be someone. No more sad girl.  
  
And I can do that. But I still go upstairs and do my homework because homework makes me feel better about myself – smooth, blank pages of paper, the questions and my pen. It just makes me feel good.  
  
I am Alecia at dinner. I take about books and my schoolwork and I can eat dinner. Sarah and Tom are happy because I am happy – and after dinner, Henry and I play a little bit of basketball. It makes me feel okay. But I kinda of feel numb. Which might be okay soon.  
  
I lie awake that night, wrapped in my pink quilt, cuddling one of the multiple teddy bears I've been given by Sarah. I've named this bear, a white and black one, Cody. Because he's black and white like a barcode.  
  
Cody, can you hear me? Where am I safe? Am I ever going to be safe? Am I Nomalie? Nomalies are scary. I remember when I saw a Nomalie in the basement – it had a muzzle on and Tawny stood in front of me so it couldn't get me. I sometimes think it did get my mind, Cody.  
  
I feel sick in my stomach and I go to the bathroom to get a glass of water. I look in the mirror. I am so ugly. I want to die and not feel like this. Be alone, be peaceful and be an icicle.  
  
I fill my cup up with water from the taps. Sarah and Tom's bathroom is light pink and white. I can't go into red and blue bathrooms. Glen is still in my nightmares. I wonder if Zack killed him. I wonder how little Maddy is.  
  
Tom's razor is resting on the edge of the bath and I pick it up. Black and silver, it almost reminds me of my favourite gun back at Manticore. It hung between Tawny's and Chi's and I was always the slowest to clean my guns. No, the slowest was Jace. She was so funny. So were Zane and Mish; they were always in trouble.  
  
I run the razor down my right arms, to see if it cuts away the tiny light coloured hairs there.  
  
Worse. I press it too hard to my arm and it takes away flesh, a hunk about an inch high and wide. I drop the razor, hissing with pain and clamp my left hand over my arm.  
  
I see blood oozing between my fingers and lift my hand off. There is a lot of blood. As I look at the blood winding its way down my arm in a steady flow, I am reminded of Eva. I wish it were me, instead of you, Eva.  
  
Maybe if Ben and I hadn't been silly in the shower block, we would've made it back early and that would've given us time to hide our Maxie.  
  
I know I must clean up the blood that has dripped onto the bathroom floor, and fix up my arm. And throw away this nightdress.  
  
I switch off the bathroom light – Sarah will check on me if I am too long. Then I found the gauze, a long bandage and some medical tape. I hurry back to my room, where I change my nightdress and throw the white nightdress in my rubbish bin. I'll have to disarm the fire alarm in my room tomorrow and burn it. I wrap my arm and crawl into bed. I am suddenly very tired and need to rest. . .  
  
I am shaken awake by Sarah, who was still in her dressing gown – I can tell by the sun it is still early. "Alecia, I saw the bathroom. Are you okay? Do you feel sick?"  
  
I am still a bit asleep but I nod. I don't want to be Alecia. I want to be Lexy. I want to be hugged and babied.  
  
"Okay honey, you stay here in bed. Did you find what you need okay?"  
  
I am still confused but I agree with Sarah. She strokes my hair and says I can stay home from school today. She leaves me in bed, still dozing. Tom is outside my door and I half-hear their conversation. Period? What? Now I really am confused, but something at the back of my mind makes me realize I have done the right thing by agreeing with Sarah.  
  
I lie back, my bandaged arm around Cody. I am very tired and I let myself sleep. I always feel sick, so maybe I won't have to go to school anymore. That wouldn't be so bad.   
  
I sleep until at least noon and then Sarah brings the TV into my bedroom, but also warns me that tomorrow I will have to go to school. I want to cry but tired soldiers don't cry.  
  
TV only holds so much entertainment for me and soon I am dozing off again. Zack, what's a period? Cody, do you know? Do X5s even get them? Is it like Jill at school who has asthma? I shall have to learn about It so I can pretend I have It for Sarah.   
  
Sun shines in my face and my alarm goes off. What? I jerk awake. I just fell asleep. I clutch Cody to me, bewildered. I think Eva was here with me. Maybe I was dreaming about her.  
  
"Alecia, time to get ready for school!" Sarah calls. I am shocked. I have slept from 2 p.m. until 7 a.m. Wow. I've never slept that long before. And I am starving.  
  
I dress quickly, wearing a sweatshirt over my dress so Sarah and Tom do not see my arm. I will have to go to school. Will I be Lexy-who-is-Alecia or Alecia today? My mind feels tired and I do not think that I can be Alecia today, but I will certainly try. I sit at the table and begin to eat the bowl of cereal very slowly. I think I make conversation but I'm not really sure – it's like I'm watching this whole scene rather than being apart of it. Sarah fussing around the kitchen, making me sandwiches, wearing her yellow flannel dressing gown, Tom at the kitchen table, reading the daily paper and drinking hiss second cup of coffee. And Henry, focused on his hand held video game, instead of his breakfast.  
  
I take another mouthful of the cereal – it's sloppy, like wet cardboard. It's some sort of healthy bran stuff. The milk is watery, probably skim. What's the point of eating if I can't enjoy it?  
  
I lick my spoon and put it beside my bowl. Five seconds, four, three, two and one…  
  
"Henry, Alecia, time to go to the bus stop," Tom said, turning the page of his newspaper, as the eight o clock news came over the radio. Like clockwork. Like the bombs Tawny and I used to make. . .  
  
And, like usual, I push my half-empty glass of milk across the table. Yuck. I hate milk and this is like the first morning ever that I won't drink it. Be Alecia, Lexy, please be Alecia.  
  
"Bye. I'll see you this afternoon," I say hurriedly, grabbing my bag from the floor and jamming the paper bag with my sandwiches in it. I move quickly, grabbing my shoes and racing out the door, just as Sarah calls out.  
  
"Alecia, come and drink your milk!"  
  
And my reply flies back on the wind. "Noooooo!" I pause at the bus stop, ignoring Kelly and Mark, and pull on my shoes. I realize I have to go to school suddenly and it's like someone has thrown some cold water in my face. I really don't want to but I had yesterday off and I never miss school days.   
  
I look at Kelly, her face a bland-ish colour from her cheap foundation and her eyelashes sticking together from the mascara. And Mark, with a cigarette in one hand and his drab clothes. Huh. I never noticed that Mark smoked before.  
  
I turn on my heal and walk towards the park. I can't bring myself to skip school but I can walk there. Not a very long walk, but pleasant. No stench of cigarettes, cheap imitation perfume and the sugary sweet smell of flavoured lip-gloss. I can cut across the sports oval again.  
  
A light breeze strikes up as I walk across the oval, headed towards my school. There are three schools around the oval. All looked like miniature, old-fashioned prisons.   
  
"Hey!" A boy's voice calls out. Damn, I was hoping no other kids took this way to school. I liked it. Full of peace and… "Hey!"  
  
Someone grabbed me from behind. "Hey!"   
  
I whipped around, slightly freaked out by being grabbed by a complete stranger. I could feel my pulse racing.  
  
He was a little taller than I was, with brown hair and green eyes and a tan. It was the boy from the ball game yesterday. He was grinning at me. I felt like running away from him as fast as possible.  
  
"I'm Joel," he said.   
  
"Um, hi," I said nervously. "I'm Le-Alecia. Alecia Marsden."  
  
"Wow. That's a really…well-balance name," Joel smiled. "Um, I thought the other day that you were really…great and I was wondering if you wanted to come and get some pizza with me this afternoon at the mall with some of my friends."  
  
Balanced? I'm not balanced, Joel. I am a psycho, a monster, a freak of nature. I'm so ugly and messed up. I'm a Nomalie, Joel. Don't you see that?  
  
"I haven't got…any money," I said, sticking my hand in my dress pocket. I know I had two dollars but I couldn't spend it on pizza. I mean, I didn't want to.  
  
Joel looks uneasy for a moment. "Uh, my treat. So, where will you meet me?"  
  
I looked at my sneakers. He should be asking out some girl with blonde hair and blue eyes and a tiny dress. Not frumpy, old, freakish little me.  
  
"How about here?" I said softly.  
  
Joel grins and nods. "Excellent. Okay, I'll see you here at 3:30, Alice. Later."  
  
I blink a bit and then turned around and kept walking towards my jail-school.  
  
It is a long day and I feel like I'm sucked into a daze, like the whole day is a movie I'm watching on fast forward. I meet Joel on the oval, my backpack heavy with book.  
  
"Alice – mind if I call you Ally? – We'd better get a move on," Joel leads me towards the main street. I nod dumbly and allow myself to be lead towards this pizza place. I've drunk so much water before coming over, I'm not really hungry.   
  
The pizza place is dimly lit and playing old Pre-Pulse 80s music. The entire place smelt of garlic and smoke. I cough discreetly and Joel points to the booth we are meant to go over to…and I want to run so fast, away from this.  
  
Two girls – one of them is Kelly from the bus stop, and another is a Gothic girl named Jill – and two guys, one I've never met and Mark from the bus stop.  
  
"Alecia!" Kelly gasped, stabbing out her cigarette with a claw-like hand painted with bright pink nail polish. "You're Joel 's new girl? You must have superpowers or something we don't know about!"   
  
I nod dumbly. "Yeah, or something."   
  
Jill wordlessly offers me a cigarette, which I ignore as I slide into the booth. A waiter brings a pizza over to us, while Joel talks with his 'friends'. I am not apart of this world. They laugh about stuff containing death, make horrible jokes and tell each other about all the alcohol they consumed at a party. How would they know that when I was left in the freezing cold of a Wyoming Winter, my only authority figure left me with a flask of black coffee spiked with whiskey, to keep me warm, Jack shaking by my side and Jace counting down the minutes until we were allowed to return from the training exercise. . .  
  
I am so cold. 


	4. Chapter Four

AN: New chapter, go me! For those of you who are waiting for Tawny to come into it,  
  
I think next chapter he will become a big part of this fic. So, yes, Tawny next   
  
chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter; please review and let me know people are  
  
still reading this :)  
  
---  
  
Winter. There is snow everywhere. I am sprawled on the floor of the kitchen (the floors are heated at the Marsdens') and read my book. Today is a good day. Winter is good, in fact. I feel like I can see the end of it all – I don't know what 'It' is. It's like I'm in a hallway or something, and I can see the door out of here at the end.   
  
"Alecia, Joel's on the phone," Sarah smiles at me, the phone in her hand. She thinks Joel and I are just the cutest.   
  
I don't know why. It's bad, hanging out with Joel. I don't feel safe in my own skin when I'm with him. I'm not Alecia or Lex. I'm 'Ally'. I have to look like Joel's girlfriend. I wasn't good enough for him, before. 'Ally' has to wear tighter jeans and smaller tops and high heeled sandals with tiny skirts. . . I hate those skirts and those tops, they make my chest and butt stick out even more. One day Zack is going to know that I'm a Nomalie.  
  
I take the phone from Sarah, my eyes not glancing up from my book.  
  
"Hello?" I ask softly, wanting to focus fully on my book. I knew what would come next.  
  
"Ally, great! The others and I are meeting in the city and I want you to come," Joel's voice is casual enough to make his demand seem more like a request.  
  
"I don't know…" I say slowly, turning a page in my book.  
  
"Ally," Joel commands. "Come one; what else are you going to do? Sit at home and read? You've got to come down here; you're my girlfriend. I love you and I want you and I to do this together."  
  
I sigh; an inaudible sigh Joel wouldn't pick up over the phone. "Okay. I'll get down there as soon as I can," I say.  
  
"Excellent. Love ya, Ally." He hangs up and I stand up, closing my book regretfully. Sarah is hurrying around, preparing dinner.  
  
"Sarah, I'm going to meet Joel," I say quietly, wishing I could go somewhere and just read.  
  
"Oh, really?" Sarah beams at me. "Wonderful, Ally! Take my cell phone and I'll pick you up when you want to come home, okay?"  
  
I nod, going upstairs to get changed. I'm wearing jeans and a sweater; Joel will get mad if I don't wear something tiny. I don't understand why he likes my clothes so tiny. Wouldn't he rather I be comfortable?   
  
I struggle into a tiny little skirt, stockings and these weird shoes that Zack would hate; I can hardly walk in them, let alone fight in them.   
  
I left my long hair loose and grabbed a coat. I have a pocket knife in my skirt; I watch my own back, especially when Joel smokes and shoots up and stuff. It means I gotta watch his back too.   
  
"Bye Sarah!" I called out half heartedly, leaving the house. The cold air hits my stocking-clad legs. I'm sorry, what idiot created stockings? Pointless pieces of fabric, that never keep the cold out in winter, and are itchy and sticky in summer.   
  
I know where Joel and his friends will be; in the alley behind this foul night club, 911. Drugs, prostitution, bribes, scrams, murders… 911 is the underworld of this fair city.  
  
I'm right. They are leaning against the walls of the building, cigarettes in hand and bottles of whiskey are being passed around.   
  
"Ally," Joel grins at me, his arm slinging around my shoulders. "Bout time. Thought you'd stood me up." He kisses me roughly on the cheek, his hand pressing against my breasts. I'm not even thirteen yet and this is how I spend my time. I know from the magazines Sarah buys me, that this is A Bad Thing to do.   
  
"Ally, drink this. You need to loosen up, babe," Joel says, holding a bottle to my lips. For the briefest second, everything is clear. I take the bottle from him, drinking huge mouthfuls. His friends gape at me, like I'm something new and incredible. I can drink. I can binge drink, entire bottles of tequila and bourbon, and not feel any headaches for hours. Yes, I tried it once. Tried to drown in alcohol.  
  
I want to throw the whiskey bottle at the wall, knowing I can drink it all and not feel any change in myself.  
  
"Whoa, calm down Ally," Joel strokes my hair half-heartedly. "That's not cool."  
  
I close my eyes, wanting to shove him away, wanting to curl up and scream for help, for Zack, for Tawny.   
  
"I want to go," I say clearly. "Go home."  
  
Joel frowns, but nods. "I'll walk you."  
  
He takes one of the whiskey bottles with him, slipping it into his jacket pocket, leading me into the street, up the road to my home. I want to curl up and go to sleep … my DNA must tell me to hibernate in the cold weather.   
  
"Ally, are you okay?" Joel's concern makes me feel happier. Someone cares about me.  
  
"I… I need to tell you something," I said, my heart beating faster. I had to tell Joel all of it. "You love me, right?"  
  
"Of course I do, babe," Joel said. "What's up?"  
  
I closed my eyes. "I …" Something inside me froze but I pushed on. "I've… I wasn't…. I was born in a military facility training children to be killers." I held my breath, opening my eyes.   
  
His eyes weren't that gorgeous yellow colour that still burned in my memory. They were green and I felt my heart break. It didn't matter if I told the truth or not; he was Joel. He wasn't Tawny.  
  
"What the…? Alecia, I think maybe you need to stop drinking," Joel said uneasily.   
  
I bit my lip and pasted a fake smile on my face. "I'm joking, you weirdo!" I giggled, wishing Zack would appear and take me to Colorado or Miami.  
  
"Yeah… funny. I'm serious, Alecia. I don't think you should be a drinker. You're not good at it," Joel said, stepping backwards from me. "See you around."  
  
I frowned. "You're not my boyfriend any more are you?" I called after him, tense.  
  
"No. Have a nice life," was his yelled reply. He didn't even turn around.  
  
I must've stood there for hours. It felt like nothing. But when I did come back to life, Sarah was standing in front of me, the sky was dark and it was lightly snowing.  
  
"Ally, Alecia, what happened?" she asked urgently, hugging me to her.  
  
"N-othing," I whispered, realising how cold my legs were. "Joel broke up with me." I had heard this statement so many times on television and I never realised that it didn't feel right to say.  
  
"Oh, sweetie," Sarah pulled away. "Lets go home, okay? You can have a hot shower. I didn't think Joel was good for you anyway. I can smell whiskey all over you, honey. You're too young to be drinking."  
  
I nod obediently, and follow her to the car. We go home.  
  
I want Zack. I want Zack to tell me it's okay and that I'm not going to die just a little girl. I want my Tawny back, I want to stop feeling tense all the time, to stop lying awake, waiting for something to happen.   
  
I go up to my room, changing into my pyjamas, hugging Cody to me tightly. I almost told. I'm a security risk. I'm so frightened of everything. What if Joel tells? Lydecker will find me and stick me in a cage, and kill me very slowly and then I'll have a gravestone with my barcode on it rather than my name.   
  
I wonder if Lydecker knew my name. He knew Max's and Jondy's and Zack's. And Syl's. Syl spent so much time in Psy Ops. I shiver, wrapped in a blanket. I wonder how I can find Zack. I wonder where he is. I wonder if he's cold.  
  
I wonder what he'll do to me if he finds out I almost told.  
  
I curl up on my bed, with Cody, and try to sleep. So cold.  
  
I am jerked awake, and a hand goes over my mouth. Zack.  
  
"Lydecker has found you," he whispers. "We need to go now, Lexy."  
  
I nod, standing up. He has my lamp on and my bag on the end of my bed. I go to the wardrobe, cramming my clothes in - jeans, sneakers, sweatshirts. All good fighting clothes. I pull a jacket on over my pyjamas, and some gloves. I ask Zack to go downstairs and get my boots from the kitchen. He glares at me, and while he is downstairs, getting my boots and some food, no doubt, I cram Cody into my bag.  
  
Zack hands me a scarf and my boots, and we climb out the window, to the red jeep waiting outside the house. I shivered a little; my pyjamas were nothing but cotton and we were in the middle of a snow storm.  
  
Zack motioned that I should climb into the backseat, and with some confusion, I did. Where was he taking me? Back to Social Services? I shuddered slightly. I hated Social Services, the hard plastic chairs and the long hours of people watching me but not talking to me or coming near me. It made me feel like I was in a glass box and I was never going to be let out. Just something to be watched and watched and … like the rats they experimented on at Manticore. Ben got put in solitary when he pulled one of a cage once.  
  
I hugged my body, chilled and feeling so alone, cold-alone. Why doesn't anyone want me to be with them? Why can't I be with Tawny? As Zack pulls away from the curb, I look back at Sarah and Tom's home and want to go back and tell them I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry and I didn't mean to do this, have to run away from them. I sort of liked them, I suppose, but I can't stay anywhere.   
  
"Where are you taking me?" I ask in a high pitched voice.  
  
Zack looks at me via the rear view mirror. "You make it sound like I'm kidnapping you, Lex."  
  
I hunch over. What the hell. "Zack, can I please see Tawny?" I ask quietly. "Please, Zack."  
  
Zack refocuses his gaze on the road and there's silence. God, why don't I just know to be quiet? I shouldn't have mentioned Tawny. I'm an idiot. I'll always be an idiot.  
  
"I'm taking you to Boston," Zack said finally. "There's a sort of hostel for girls like you; you go to school, maybe get a job and generally keep out of trouble."  
  
"Girls like me?" My voice wobbles.  
  
"Girls without any family," Zack replies.  
  
"Oh," I lean back, closing my eyes. Zack's right; I am an orphan. I have no one in this world who gives a damn about me.  
  
Except Lydecker, but that's a completely different situation.  
  
I am completely alone.  
  
"How did Lydecker find me?" I ask, closing my eyes.  
  
"Bad luck," Zack says, after a short pause.  
  
"You don't believe in luck," I shot back. "Everything depends on a well thought out plan."  
  
Zack looks at me through the rear view mirror… is he smirking at me? No, just lack of sleep, Lexy. You're imaging things.  
  
"Well, as far as I can tell, Lydecker randomly picked a city in America to look for an X5 and you were that X5, Lexy. So maybe there is such thing as bad luck," he started.  
  
"But there's no such thing as good luck," I said sadly.  
  
Zack shook his head. "Maybe not for me, Lex. And maybe you haven't had any good luck yet."  
  
"Who are you and what have you done with Zack?" I asked, managing a small smile.  
  
"Who are you and where's Lexy?" Zack asked, perfectly serious.  
  
I shrugged uncomfortably. "Probably having the time of her life."  
  
"I hope so," Zack said. "Lex, you should probably get some sleep. I'll wake you up when we stop."  
  
"Thank you Zack," I whispered, as I curled up in a ball.  
  
The ride was a long one. It took us two days. We stopped, we slept, we ate. We didn't talk much, because I don't want to talk. He's leaving me alone again and I hate feeling alone. I feel cold, like the night of the escape, I was clinging to Tawny's hand and then we got split up.  
  
Or the time we were training in the forest in groups of three and a blizzard hit. Just me, Syl and Brin, all alone. No one knew where we were. Cold and alone for 47 hours. Then Brin and I got three days in solitary isolation because we didn't even try to get back to Manticore. I remember the cold. The bone chilling, unforgettable cold. Like, the cold of the night they took Jack away. It's a different cold then anything else I've ever felt. Cold like death, cold like something's not meant to be like.  
  
"How are the others?" I asked one morning. We were only an hour from this hostel place now, and I thought I better talk to Zack. He's about to leave me again.  
  
"Tinga's…" Zack began and looked at me. "Tinga hasn't adjusted well, so far. High school was too … Tinga's spending the winter with Brin."  
  
"I thought Brin didn't graduate for four years?" I asked coldly.  
  
"She doesn't," Zack replied calmly. "But while I believe you can survive without Brin's help, I know Tinga can't. Brin thinks Tinga's got something called anorexia nervosa. I don't know much about it."  
  
"You'll make sure Tinga lives, right?" I asked, looking at him.  
  
"Lexy," Zack said softly, "if Tinga doesn't want to live in this world, I can't help her. But I care about Tinga and I'll help her in anyway I can."  
  
I nod slowly and reach for my bag, fumbling around in it, for a scrap of paper and a pen. I scribble a short message on it, the ink in the pen leaking all over my hands. "You'll give her this for me, next time you see her, right?" I asked, trying to sound brave. I've seen girls with anorexia. So tiny, they look like they can't walk without breaking their legs. They make me feel sick for their families … watching someone they love die because of food. I don't want Tinga; Tinga who made sure we weren't too scared when we were babies and always covered up our flaws when Lydecker did an inspection.  
  
Zack takes the piece of paper and reads it briefly. "I can't let you give away you're location to her," Zack says at my questioning glance.  
  
"Syl and Krit?" I asked.  
  
"Yes. And I haven't managed to split them up since. Who ever invented text messages should be shot," Zack growled. "And I will give it to Tinga, Lex, I promise."  
  
"Good," I replied. "So, who are you going to see next?"  
  
Zack was silent.  
  
"Zack, I asked you…"  
  
"I know Lexy. I heard you."  
  
I blinked, confused an then it all dawned on me. "You're going to see Tawny, aren't you?" I squealed, a grin spreading across my face.  
  
"No comment," Zack replied, looking tense.  
  
"No comment means yes," I said, almost bouncing in my seat. "Tawny!"  
  
"No comment means I am neither agreeing nor denying," Zack retorted. "Sit still."  
  
I froze in my seat. "Are you?" I asked, staring straight ahead, watching the Boston rain and sleet.  
  
"Yes. After I drop you off, Lexy, I will be checking on Tawny," Zack replied very formally.  
  
Silence, I twisted my fingers around my shirt and gave Zack a pleading look.  
  
"Don't even ask, Lexy. You'll be going to the hostel," Zack said, without taking his eyes off the road.  
  
"I really miss him, Zack," I whispered, horrified to realise that tears were running down my face. "I feel cold without him."  
  
"I miss Max," Zack replied. "And Jondy. And Eva. But I can't bow to my weaknesses, Lex. You need to be strong."  
  
"I can't," I'm full out crying now. "I want Tawny back."  
  
Zack's slowing down now, pulling up outside a bland brick building with some sort of sign out the front, but the tears are blurring my eyes. "Lexy, look at me. You are a soldier. Do not kid yourself for a second you are anything less than that," he told me, looking angry.  
  
"I'm not a soldier!" I hissed. "I'm just a little girl!"  
  
Zack shook his head. "Lexy, a little girl was raped and killed in Manhattan last night. She couldn't defend herself. You'd never let something go so far you'd end up dead. I know you too well."  
  
"How do you know, Zack?" I yelled, kicking the dashboard. "How do you know one day everything will just shatter and I'll be the dead, abused girl in the newspaper?"  
  
"Lexy, calm down," Zack ordered me. "Tawny isn't the same person he was at Manticore. You aren't the same person you were at Manticore. Everything is different out here, always changing. You need to stop dwelling on some fanciful memory you have of Tawny and hope to god that maybe, one day, you will see him again and that you will be able to accept him as the person he has become.  
  
"And," Zack's voice lowered. "I know you Lexy. I know that somehow, you'll be okay. The same with Syl. And Ben. In the end, it'll all come good and I won't have to worry… unless Syl finds another stick of TNT."  
  
I shook my head. "You don't know how it feels to know that you're never going to see the people you love ever again. They could die or just vanish and you'll never ever know if they were happy, if they had someone that they loved… if they missed you in their lives…"  
  
The tears are rolling down my tears and I can't stop them.  
  
Zack reached out and touched my hair. "I do, Lexy, and I wish I could take you to Tawny. But it's a security risk."  
  
I nod, wiping my eyes on my shirt.  
  
"It'll be okay, Lexy, I promise," Zack says, and something about the way he tells me makes me believe him. "You'll like Boston. It'll be safe and you'll be happy."  
  
"I don't know how to be happy," I mumble as he hands me an envelope.  
  
"Tell them inside that you're Laura. Laura Harris," Zack tells me. "They'll have organized everything for you."  
  
I nod and hoist my bag onto my shoulder, stuffing the envelope into my pocket. I feel empty, like I've lost something of myself. I want to curl up and scream really, really loudly and make my life stop so I can go back and fix the bad things and not feel this way. So cold. I look over my shoulder as Zack drives away, leaving me in a city of too many people, too many places, too many hurts. I feel like somebody is about to leap out from somewhere and start yelling I'm an impostor, I'm a monster, I'm a freak. I'm not apart of this world, I should be in a cage.  
  
I push open the door of the hostel and I walk inside. I walk inside and pray so, so hard that nothing will get me. Nothing will get Tinga either.  
  
---  
  
I'll post the new chapter as fast as I can. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and any constructive critism would be adored and loved. 


	5. Chapter Five

AN: Yes, I know this took a long time, but I'm glad it did because this chapter turned out better than I was expecting.  
  
For those of you hanging out for it, Tawny's in this chapter.   
  
Please review and let me know you're reading this. This fic is really special to me because 90% of this is all my creation.  
  
---  
  
Boston. The Pulse ruined this city; it's only a fraction of what it once was. There is one district of shops and such, and the rest is this city that's been ripped apart and brought to it's knees.  
  
The hostel is a questionable place. It was started after the Pulse, when hundreds of children lost parents to the food riots. This suburb is full of churches, refuges and such with Pulse Orphans, as we're called, living there.  
  
Not that it's a nice place. Gangs roam the streets the second the sun sets. Hookers and dealers are out on every corner. People take guns and knives to the school down the road.  
  
I'm thirteen now. I'm now Laura Harris, whose parents were shot dead.   
  
Shot dead.  
  
Like Eva.  
  
We all have tiny little rooms in this place. My room is painted red, with horrible black and red curtains, and nasty dark wallpaper printed over the red paint. The light is a bald light bulb that hands from the roof in the centre of the room. I have a bed that is soft and squishy, with blankets and quilts that smell of camphor oil, and one pillow. My clothes and things are jammed in one broken dresses that I've padlocked. There's a small table in front of the window and a sink in the corner.  
  
It's small and grubby, but it's my place in Boston.  
  
There are almost fifty girls here, and five women who look after us; serving us food, checking that we're in our rooms at 9pm and have our windows permanently barred and locked. We have no freedom to speak of. No boys, no work, nothing.  
  
I don't miss Joel though, at all. I miss the Marsdens, that was a nice place to be.  
  
"Laura?"  
  
I turn around. It's Mrs Geller, who looks after my floor.  
  
"Laura, I didn't see you at dinner."  
  
I give a half hearted smile. "I wasn't hungry."  
  
"You're fading away, child." Her reply was ready, calculated and predictable. But what sort of soldier would I be if I wasn't at my leanest and fittest every moment of the day and night?  
  
"I've always been small," I look back out the window. "I'm fine, honest."  
  
Mrs Geller nodded. "Fine then. Just checking, make sure we don't have to get you a doctor, Laura."  
  
I hear my door click shut. They have no idea. On all their records, I'm sixteen, almost seventeen. In all reality, I'm thirteen years old. I'm lucky I'm tall, I suppose. They didn't ask any questions. They gave me an ID card, and enrolled me in the local high school; I'll be a sophomore three years early. And I'm planning to get a job. I need money if I want to get out of here, get my own place, that I properly pay for.  
  
Tomorrow I start school. Everyone does; and all day the other girls have been yelling over clothes, scraping together money for new shoes and organizing notebooks. My notebooks were stolen when I first arrived here, brand new and covered in clear plastic. Some of the girls shared a sheet of patterned wrapping paper for their books - purple with silver and metallic stars. I didn't like it at all.  
  
"Lights out, girls!" Mrs Geller yells from down the hallway. And the power in my room goes. It can't be good for the wiring in this building, to switch off the power every night.   
  
I stay seated in the dark, playing with the ends of my long hair. I can't do this, I can't be sixteen. I don't know how.  
  
I stand up, peeling off my sweatshirt and jeans, and pull on an old flannel shirt. My head is heavy and I can feel my seizures coming back. I haven't had one in so long… I wonder if I've still got my tryptophan or if I lost it somewhere… I wrap myself in blankets and quilts and try to sleep…  
  
My dreams are full of Manticore again. That disastrous training session with the dog tearing Syl's face off. I can see the blood everywhere … I can feel myself sinking into Tawny's arms as we stare at Syl's mauled face and the blood…  
  
There's more this time. There's never been more before…   
  
We'd never lost some many X5s on a training mission before. Two KIA, Syl and I injured during the mission. And when Jondy went back to get help for Syl and I, she got put into solitary confinement for a whole week. And we didn't know that until she came back.  
  
I lie awake for a long time wondering if Tawny ever forgot Krit killing that dog. I know I never have. The way he hit that dog. The way he killed it.  
  
The way he cried when Lydecker took Syl away. And the way he smiled when she came back, okay.  
  
Well, as okay as you can be after three months of reconstructive surgery on your face. And she made it out.  
  
I still didn't get back to sleep that night. It's still dark when Mrs Gellar rouses the house to get ready for school. I peel off my nightshirt and reach for a sweatshirt and jeans from my dresser. They're damp from water that leaks in from the window frame but there's nothing I can do about it. I guess I do well out of it; the other girls have to shake mice and spiders from their clothes. But at least after they're out of your socks and jeans, they don't stick to you and make you feel like you're suffocating.   
  
My head feels heavy and so do my books as I jam them into the bag I stole from some shop a few days ago. While the other girls steal and barter from each other, I steal and barter from the general public.   
  
I walk slowly downstairs, wanting to crawl back into my bed and just wait for Tawny or someone to come and get me and take me somewhere that I can breathe and sit and not remember how much blood was split back at Manticore. Syl's, Zack's, Tinga's, Max's, mine..  
  
Eva's.   
  
"Hurry up, Laura," Mrs Gellar says as she dives down the hall. "The others are waiting for you."  
  
The others. The four other sixteen year olds who'll I'll be going to school with.  
  
We have to sit together at breakfast, now school has started again. I drop into a chair, my stomach rebelling at the sour milk I can smell in the porridge. At least, it's going sour. I wonder if the others can taste what I can smell or it's just because I'm such a freak.   
  
Marnie looks at me. Marnie's a goth and creeps me out to no end, mainly because she's seventeen and is completely stick thin, with plain white skin, straight black hair to her waist, a deep voice and all she talks about is sex and killing herself. Two things I cannot abide by. Death is what takes you to the Nomalies. Death is what stole Eva and Jack.  
  
"You better eat something, Laura," Marnie looks at me flatly. My name sounds unnatural when it's coming from her, like she has a hard time pronouncing it, or something. "I've been doing this school for two years and the food there is expensive crap."  
  
I shrug, looking at the milk congealing in the bowl of porridge. Tessa and Micaela both have bowls of it in front of them, and are stirring it with their spoons but haven't eaten any yet.  
  
"No, I'm fine," I said weakly, wishing there was some milk that wasn't decomposing as we sat here. I prop my head up on my hand and watch the porridge congeal. I remember meals at Manticore. You couldn't put a name to most of the stuff served, but it was fresh. Because we can smell the second something starts decomposing.   
  
Marnie gives me a strange look, almost appraising. I don't want to know her or be apart of her world. I want to be back at Manticore with Tawny and Zack. Not here with a girl who terrifies the shit out of me for a reason I cannot pin point.   
  
"Girls, it's time for you to go," Mrs Gellar's standing in front of us, handing out money for school lunches. I can use it to buy milk - or better, yet, tryptophan. If I knew where to find some in this city.  
  
I grab my bag, jamming the money deep in my jeans pocket. It's still cold, this time of year. No snow though. I wish it would snow. Reminds me when we used to sneak out of the barracks and what it fall from the High Place.  
  
Marnie and the other three whom are wearing thick make up and dark clothes follow me out onto the street, fishing through their bags for a cigarette.  
  
"Hey. Laura. Kid," Marnie calls out with her deep voice. "Straight after your last class, meet us at the old coffee shop across the road from the school. Don't go in there, just wait for us. We know where you can get a job."  
  
"We're not allowed to get jobs," I parrot Mrs Gellar's words.  
  
"Yeah. We're not allowed to work, yet the day we graduate high school, we're thrown out on our asses. We need that cash. I'm offering you a job that pays well." Marnie holds up a cigarette triumphantly. "I can offer it to someone else."  
  
Money. A job. I bite my lip before nodding. "Fine."  
  
"Good girl. See you at four o clock, " Marnie saunters off, her three lackeys trailing behind her. She never had any intention of going to school. I wondered why she wore black all the time. Why she was in the hostel at all.  
  
And, for the briefest second, I wonder if she was one of my sisters. Maybe Max. Max was a good soldier, she'd keep her body thin. And she had dark hair. So did Jondy.  
  
I walk slowly towards the school. Zack shouldn't have said I was sixteen. I'm only thirteen. I shouldn't have to deal with this for three more years. I'm still a little kid. My heart thumps in my chest and I feel a little bit of the winter chill on my face as I walk closer to the big, grey concrete building which seals my doom. Huge wire fences around the whole place, and one sad looking tree in the middle of the 'playground', it's roots - and life - sealed in smooth, unyielding concrete.   
  
And I keep on walking.  
  
I walk up the steps, down the hall and into the office, ignoring people staring at me. Compared to these semi-adults, I'm tiny and I feel young and that I shouldn't be here.  
  
But Zack. Zack set this up for a reason. Zack is never wrong. He'd know I wouldn't like this, but that it was the right thing to do and it'd be good for me.   
  
I'm handed a piece of paper with numbers and rooms and things I'm learning on it and I stumble my way down the hall and into a classroom and I hunch at my desk, trying to be completely insignificant to everyone.  
  
My hands shook as I tried to write out the assignments. Why am I such a god damned freak show? I'm not like the thin, sleek girls in my class, whose pens match the cover of their notebooks and their shoes. I feel frumpy and young and like I'm sinking somewhere deep. And my seizures are flaring up. I can feel the shaking in my hands getting worse.  
  
The teachers don't even comment on my shaking hands. They mutter - loud enough for anyone to hear - about kids on drug trips. I know, if it comes down to me in a coma, no one here will help me. I'm the tiny girl coming off a drug trip, not a screw-up of a runaway genetically engineered soldier who has a serious neurological problem.   
  
I wonder what would happen if I killed someone. I just murdered someone flat out. I wonder how far gone I have to be until I just crack and break someone's neck. Or choke them to death. Or beat them. I wonder if, when that day comes, I'll be able to think straight. I wonder if I'll cry or I'll feel or I'll relish in how warm the blood feels as it gushes out of a lifeless body.   
  
I remember the warmth from the convicts at Manticore. It was warm for awhile after the death. Then it went cold and congealed. And there was a dead person there. Life blood is like a new beginning. Like opening your eyes for the first time ever. Every sense I had was on overdrive, turned up high. Sweat prickling my skin and the blood running over my hands like mercury.  
  
Does mercury burn? Blood does. It burns your mind. You never forget the feel of someone's blood. Slippery and almost greasy; you can't wash it away. It stays with you, even though you don't know it. You wake up, sweat pouring off you, thinking it's your blood and the Nomalies have gotten you, even years after you've left the Nomalies behind.  
  
I can still see Ben telling his stories and the Nomalies in the cages. I always used to fear them. What was there to fear? They were alone for so long, they had nothing left except an incredible power. The power Manticore gave them use was to kill. And when they went to use this power, they got locked up.   
  
Every side has a story. Every person an explanation.  
  
I sat in science, gripping my pen tightly, trying not to think about the white rabbit the science teacher had. He was going to kill it for us to dissect. He mentioned in passing, as he loaded the poison into a syringe, that before the Pulse, the animals came to the school already dead, all preserved for the students to use.  
  
My hands were shaking as he held that rabbit up, ready to stick that needle into it's neck. It's eyes were so wide and I could hear it's little heart pounding and I could recall all the times the doctors at Manticore had held me like that, with a needle at the ready… never knowing if I'd see my siblings again. Or if I'd wake up a Nomalie…  
  
What if someone had been able to stop those doctors before they got to me or Jack?   
  
I don't remember what happened next, really. I remember the terror I felt back ten years at Manticore as I sat on a gurney, a doctor waving a syringe of something clear and blue tinted around smugly, my own terror, having to swallow my tears in fear of the taser - or solitary confinement…  
  
Everyone was looking at me. I realised I'd yelled out. I could still hear that rabbit's heart pounding. I couldn't take him with me; the hostel didn't allow pets and I'm pretty sure the only image that entered Zack's brain at the word 'rabbit' was 'dinner'. I'd prolonged it's miserable life. I'd let it know it was going directly to hell the second that needle pricked it's throat.  
  
It's heart was pounding a mile a minute, and I wanted to take that scalpel and jam it into the rabbit's heart to shut it up and then my own, for not being able to really save it's life.   
  
It looked so soft.  
  
And it was over. The heart beat stopped almost instantly; mid beat. The eyes dilated, it became rigid and stiff in the teacher's hands.  
  
And it's blood ran cold. I could feel the blood on my hands, Syl's face nothing but a chewed hunk of flesh, her high keening wail, the way Krit killed that awful, awful dog…  
  
I swallowed hard, trying to keep down the mouthful of coleslaw I'd choked down at lunch down. Throwing up wouldn't help. I'm the Girl On A Drug Trip.  
  
And the bell finally let me free, away from the dead rabbit and the cold blood.  
  
I clutched my books close to me and walked slowly out into the cold. I wonder why the terrorists set off the Pulse. What did they gain? They made millions of people miserable, they're responsible for millions of deaths and corruption.   
  
But they set us free. We wouldn't still be on the outside if it wasn't for the Pulse. They would've found us, all that so-called tight security.  
  
The coffee shop beckoned invitingly and I wanted to go inside and sit for awhile, drown my sorrows in something warm, that reminded me I was still human, and can enjoy human pleasures. I don't feel human. I feel sick to my stomach and my hands won't stop shaking. And I can still hear that rabbit's heart beat.   
  
But Marnie warned me against going inside. I don't want to know why and I don't care. I want the money so bad. I want to get out of that hostel and find Tawny and go to Florida where I can be warm again. Beaches and sun…  
  
"Heard you don't like pointless animal slaughter," a voice said behind me. I whipped around, to face Marnie. Who black jeans had been traded in a mini skirt with a slit to her hip. "Come on, Jay really wants to meet you."  
  
I blinked at her, aching all over, too much to ask her how she knew or why she was wearing such a pointless skirt or who the hell Jay was…  
  
We walked along the streets, deeper into the city, where very few people were still walking around. By five o clock people have already gone home, locked their doors and bolted their windows, which shows so much faith in the police of this fair city.  
  
Marnie and the others lead me to the back of an old warehouse, up an old wooden stair case and thump on a steel door. I look out over the street, wondering if the rabbit had a family to mourn him or I was the only one who wanted to jab the science teacher with his own god damned needle.  
  
"…This is Laura, Jay," Marnie said almost proudly. I turned around.  
  
Jay was a tallish Mexican guy, wearing his shirt open and about five gold necklaces. I could see into his dark apartment, where a scantily clad woman lay on a bed. No, a girl. Who didn't look much older than I actually was… who was he…  
  
"Laura," he said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth with a grin. "Laura. Sounds like she's about to sit down to afternoon fucking tea with my fucking mother in law. Won't sell."  
  
"Then give her a stage name. No one will care," Marnie shot back. "Look at her."  
  
Jay run his eyes over my body with a gleam in his eyes. "You do nice work, Marnie," he said. "But I gotta make this legal. Not like the last bimbo you brought me."  
  
Marnie shrugged. "Hey, she said she wanted to work for good money. You gotta do bad work for good money. It's the law of the world."  
  
Jay took a step towards me. "Well, Laura, how old are you?" he asked, puffing cheap cigarette smoke in my face.  
  
"Excuse me?" I said quietly, Marnie creeping me out for longer each second.  
  
"Your age?" Jay demanded.  
  
"Sixteen," I replied slowly, edging away from him.  
  
"Legal. Perfect," he grinned, satisfied. "Marnie, babe, strip down and join Miss Rebecca inside."  
  
I felt sick to my insides, as Marnie peeled off her clothes and walked into the dark apartment, joining the girl on the bed. I knew.. Sex. It was all about the sex thing. The dark, sweaty thing that girls sold themselves for.  
  
"You're in Laura. I know my regulars will be impressed," Jay said, gripping my upper arm tightly. "Marnie's earned her cash this month. And Amy Gellar. Didn't think sexy girls existed in this city any more."  
  
I swallowed, planting my feet. "What… what do I have to do?" I asked slowly, not budging an inch.  
  
"Now? I was hoping you give me a blow job but if you want a go at one of the girls," Jay leered at me, pulling on my arm a little.  
  
Glen's face flashed through my mind as he smiled. They had the same look in their eyes.   
  
I planted my feet even more firmly, not moving an inch, like Zack taught me when I was two. "And to work?" I asked blankly, not reacting at all to his previous statement.  
  
"Dance, strip and fuck whatever man is willing to pay," Jay said, giving me a look.   
  
"No. Please let go of me," I said, my voice wobbling a little as the panic rose in my throat. He was bigger than I was and this stair case didn't look like it would hold my weight at all. Especially if we got into a fight.  
  
I didn't like my odds if I fell.  
  
"No?" Jay began to laugh. "There is no 'yes' or 'no', in this Laura. You're coming inside now so I can make sure you're… suited to the work."  
  
I felt something flare up in my stomach. Sex…  
  
"No," I said, wrenching my arm out of his grip. "No!"  
  
Jay stared at me and reached for something at his hip. "If that's the way you feel, Laura. But I can't have you running and telling every soul in Boston where Jay Sanchez bases his operations, can I?"  
  
And there was a .24 Desert Eagle pointed at my face.  
  
And I hit him. I punched him so hard that his gun dropped to the alley way below and Marnie and the girl screamed and Jay swore, falling backwards clutching his face. I froze, not remembering the last time I'd hurt someone.   
  
Maybe I'd kill him and not know. Maybe this was it.  
  
"You fucking bitch, I'll kill you!" Jay reached behind him and I saw the blade catch the late afternoon light and I turned and ran down that staircase, jumping down most of it and sprinting as fast as I possibly could.  
  
It was eight blocks away my body reminded me I wasn't in any state to be long distant sprinting.   
  
I slumped against a bakery, trying to catch my breath as the shakes took over, blurring my vision and I curled up in a ball on the pavement, knowing if Jay caught up to me, he could blow my brains across the pavement without me even knowing he was behind me.  
  
And someone was next to me, holding me against their warm, firm body. I couldn't hear or see, but I could see golden eyes and smell something I vaguely remembered from somewhere… they spoke quietly, putting something in my mouth and holding me close, telling me I'd be okay.  
  
I don't know how long it was until I got my vision back but it felt like hours. But the sun was still low in the sky, and my watch claimed it was after five. And then I looked up at the guy who'd saved my life.   
  
And that grin brought everything back.  
  
"Tawny," I let out a hoarse sob, feeling my head spin.  
  
"Easy, Lex," Tawny grinned, looking relieved. "It'll take a little while for you to absorb the tryptophan."  
  
He was just how I remembered him - the eyes which gave him his name, the well tanned skin and the dark hair falling into his eyes. And the smile that always made me feel safe…  
  
"I can't believe you're here," I said, realising tears were running down my face as I flung my arms around him tightly. He was so warm. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Author's Notes: **Whoot, another update. This fic is very much my baby - I developed most of the characters myself - so be very patient with updates for it, as I did rewrite this chapter from scratch three times. I've got big plans for this story, and I promise the next update will not take so long.

Thanks to ChocRocks, who reviewed and reminded me this was still worth reading. That totally made my day.

The rating has gone down from R to PG-13 because at the moment, this story has no content that could be rated R. When it gets darker, I'll put the rating back up.

_Please review and let me know that you are reading this. I'll be handing this story in at the end of my school year (December), and I would really like a critique. _

* * *

Tawny managed to get me to my feet; I was still shaking a little. My book bag had gotten lost between Jay's place and the bakery I had collapsed in front of. Tawny had slung his jacket around my shoulders as he led me somewhere. My head was pounding and my mouth felt dry. Everything felt like a dream; a hazy quality to it. I felt like lying against the pavement, my head pounding and my face hot.

Tawny managed to get me at least six blocks up the street, and dragged me into a dimly lit restaurant. I buried my face against him.

"Sit here, Lex," Tawny said, motioning to the chair. "I'll get you some tryptrophan." His hand lingered on my shoulder, searching my face for ... something. Tawny always did have a way of being able to read my mind just by looking at me with those eyes. I nodded slowly.

"Okay," I rested my head back, against the wall, and looked around the restaurant. Chinese, I could smell it; a stale scent that hung in the air – old oil and cigarette smoke that made me want to retch. I could hardly remember the last time I had eaten until I was full, but the smell was enough to take my appetite away forever.

The restaurant was small, with a cluster of sticky looking Formica tables and folding chairs. The walls were red and orange flower print, and the bald light bulbs hanging from the roof were covered with black beaded covers.

Two Chinese girls were sitting at the counter, a banged up till in front of them. They were twins, their black hair cut in the same severe style, and they wore the uniforms of a local Catholic school, paging though glossy fashion magazines.

It was like this a lot after the Pulse –it happened so gradually no one really noticed. The American government wanted more immigrants to work here, boost the economy up. And a lot of foreign people took up the offer – cheap citizenship in what was once the superpower. These people weren't afraid to work hard and earn everything they had. The few private schools that remained after the Pulse now had Japanese, Russian, Chinese, Indian and Spanish children filling the classrooms. American children receiving a privileged education was the minority.

I know what I looked like to these two girls – two girls who worked in a family restaurant and went to an upper class school, girls who could afford to order magazines from Canada and Europe, where they were still published. Two girls who had never spent a night on the street, had never picked up a gun; they had never feared for their lives.

To them, I was simply another one of the vast population known as 'white trash'. My hair was tangled around my face, and my clothes were not only worn out but covered in filth. My face was pale, dark smudges under my eyes and I was shaking a little. I could have been a prostitute, a drug addict, anything. It wasn't uncommon anymore. I was too young to ever remember the days when a girl my age on the streets would have been a tragedy, a cry for help.

Tawny returned then, with a bottle of tryptrophan and a glass of water, a concerned look on his face. Crouching beside me, he shook some of the pills out.

"Think you can manage some of these?" he asked with a half-hearted grin. I nodded slowly, my head pounding and took the pills from him, and he lifted the glass to my lips.

One of the twins got up and walked over, a dark look on her face. "Tony," she began, with only a hint of an accent, and began talking at him in rapid-fire Chinese that I couldn't make sense of. I had never learnt to speak Chinese or Japanese. I had learnt French back at Manticore, and Eva had coached me in a little Spanish. Whatever the girl was saying wasn't at all flattering.

"This is Alexis, Lina," Tawny said without looking at her. "She'll be staying with me for awhile. She can help out around here."

The girl – Lina – snapped at him, saying something that made Tawny turn around.

"She's an old friend, Lina. And Alexis isn't on drugs," he retorted. "Go and tell May Alexis will be staying for awhile, okay? I'm taking her upstairs."

Lina put her hands on her hips. "There is only one bed in your room," she said, quite clearly, hardly looking at me.

The other girl stood up and came over. "Tony's couch folds out into a sofa bed," she said calmly. "I'm sure it will be fine for her. Come on Lina."

And with a final glowering look in my direction, Lina and her sister left the room, the sister pausing only to lock the front door of the restaurant.

"Feel better?" Tawny turned back to me.

I nodded. My head had cleared almost instantaneously. "Who were they?" I asked, sitting up straighter.

"Li Na and Jia Li," Tawny replied. "Come on, you should lie down for awhile. Can't remember the last time anyone had a seizure that bad."

I nodded and follow him through the restaurant and up some badly carpeted stairs, to a landing. The building is at least four stories high, three above the restaurant area. All wallpapered in red and orange.

On the landing, Tawny pushes open a door, painted the same red as the wallpaper, almost invisible amongst the ugly wallpaper.

And it's a small apartment. A grey kitchenette, a large room and a smaller room leading off it. The larger room was once painted blue and white, but has faded to a shade of grey, years of wear and grime.

There is a Formica table, just like the ones downstairs but much cleaner looking. Three mismatched chairs are crowded around it. A television is balanced upon a milk crate, next to the door to the other room. A beat up grey couch is pushed against a wall. The windows have rice paper stuck over them, in place of curtains or blinds.

"After all the red, I was ready to gouge my eyes out," Tawny said dryly. "May likes to redecorate a lot, and I usually claim her discarded furniture. When I moved in, the whole place was done in white, blue and grey."

"The red is too much," I said, pushing my hair out of my face. "Definitely an improvement over the barracks."

Tawny snorted. "A cardboard box under the Brooklyn Bridge is an improvement over the barracks. Come on."

He motioned for me to go into the other room – the bedroom. Being alone with anyone in a bedroom made me uncomfortable. But this was the first time I wasn't. Tawny had always made me feel safe before, and this just reminded me how much I had missed him.

"You need to lie down," Tawny half ordered. "Sleep that seizure off. I'll bring you something to eat up."

Without resistance, I curled up on the bed, kicking my sneakers off. I did feel drained. Too much had happened too fast...

"Tawn..." I called after him.

"Yes, Lex?" Tawny turned around.

"I haven't got any of my stuff. It's all over at a boarding house run by a Mrs. Gellar," I replied. "Clothes and stuff. Bit of money."

Tawny looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll see what I can do. It's already pretty late, Lex, if they think you've run away, the money has probably been taken. And we can find you some more clothes."

I nodded, closing my eyes. "Missed you, Tawn."

I was asleep before Tawny had left the apartment.

I couldn't remember a night I had had such a good night's sleep. I almost felt calm, like I wasn't balancing along a cliff face, there was no hysteria building, like a knot in my stomach.

I was still tucked up in Tawny's bed, a blanket wrapped around me, with a bottle of tryptrophan and a glass of water on the nightstand beside me.

I sat up, looking around for a clock or Tawny.

Light flooded into the main room, even with the paper covering up the windows. In the rare sunlight, the apartment looked slightly cheerier in the light, but it still looked slightly grungy and worn out.

Tawny was sprawled out on the couch, dead to the world. Completely relaxed.

I found a clock – a small portable thing on top of the television declaring it barely past seven in the morning. I had slept at least twelve hours, for the first time since back at the Marsdens' when I cut myself with the razor.

I slipped back into the bedroom, into the small bathroom, tiled entirely in a candy pink shade, with once-gold fittings. I stripped my clothes off and managed to locate some shampoo and some soap. There was no hot water, and I wouldn't have used it anyway. I was the guest, and I had no right to use up their hot water – their expensive hot water.

My sweater and jeans were hardly clean enough to wear once again, but I had nothing else unless I asked the twin girls – Jia Li and Li Na – to borrow some of their clothes. Maybe they had something they had grown out of. They were taller than I was, possibly older too.

I found a broken comb with eight teeth left and managed to comb my wet hair down, trying to look less like a drug addict or hooker, and more like the pitiful excuse for a genetically engineered mutant I was.

Pulling my clothes back on, I slipped out of the apartment. I could hear noises in the kitchen, as I slipped up to the next floor.

The first door was painted white with a pink trim. Painted in fancy pink script were the twins' names, decorated with little daisies and stars. Cute, I suppose. I knocked gently.

"Yes?"

I couldn't tell which one of them answered the door.

"Uh, I was wondering if you had some clothes that I could borrow," I said uncertainly. The girl was wearing her school uniform again, with little daisy hair clips. "I only have these and they're kind of gross."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Look, Alexis, I know Tony went out last night to get your stuff from whatever gutter you crawled out of, okay?"

I almost jumped. "Li Na?"

Before she could answer, her sister appeared, in a pair of faded pajamas. "Lina, I'm done in the bathroom," Jia Li said to Li Na. "I'll take Alexis down to Mother."

Li Na glared at me once more before Jia Li motioned I go downstairs.

"Mother will have gotten some breakfast ready for Lina and me," Jia Li replied. "We'll have to leave for school soon, but maybe I can help you out before I go."

I nodded as she led me to the restaurant floor, but into the back of the building. Into a massive kitchen, of worn appliances, and one long table working as a counter top. And a small Japanese woman, obviously Jia Li's mother, stirring something on the stove. As Jia Li and I walked in, the woman began talking in the same rapid fire dialect Li Na had used on me the night before.

"Mother, this is Tony's friend Alexis," Jia Li said clearly.

The woman looked up and smiled. "Ah. Alexis! Tony mentioned you were quite tired and sick last night. I hope you feel better?"

I nodded. "Yes thank you, Ma'am."

"Mrs. Yen. Mei Yen. Call me May," the woman said. "Please sit down, and I'll get you both some breakfast."

"Lina's being quite the bitch," Jia Li said primly, taking a seat at the counter-table. "I won't be surprised if Tony doesn't speak to her for the rest of the week at this rate."

"Leave your sister alone," May said mildly, pouring glasses of milk for us. "Breakfast will just be a second."

Jia Li took a sip of her milk before turning towards me. "Lina's pretty moody. And she doesn't always get along with Tony. She's got a bit of a crush on him. She's probably very jealous of you, getting to sleep in his room like that."

I shrugged almost uncomfortably. "We knew each other as children. He's like a big brother too me."

Jia Li beamed. "Me too! Now," she paused, looking thoughtful, "Lina will eventually calm down, but you shouldn't upset her anymore – even unintentionally. Don't call her Li Na. She considers herself an American, and goes with the American spelling and pronunciation, 'Lina'. She can't understand why our parents called us Chinese names."

"Culture!" May suddenly cried, half slamming plates of eggs and bacon in front of us. "I try to teach my daughters their culture and history, and you read those nasty magazines, and watch those horrible movies and spit on your heritage! I shall never understand you two!"

Jia Li giggled. "Mother loves culture. When Lina changed her name, I changed mine too – Jina – and Mother is always telling us we're spitting on our heritage. Of course, Mother changed the spelling of her name after too many mix ups."

I nibbled at my food. "How long has Tony lived here?"

Jina took a bite of her bacon. "When my sister Ling got into trouble, Tony helped her out. Mother offered Tony a room and job here, and he took it. Ling's gone now, to live in Canada. I'm glad Tony took the job. Less work for Lina and me."

"Alexis!" Tawny appeared in the doorway, looking blurry from sleep and relieved. "Didn't know where you'd gone."

"Just having some breakfast," I smiled, waving my fork around.

Tawny grinned, running his fingers through his hair, and for the first time I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt; just sweatpants. And his chest muscles were very defined. Tanned, fit, strong, those eyes... I felt my cheeks heat up, and I looked back at my plate. I had never considered any of my brothers like that. Why was I thinking about Tawny, the brother I trusted all most more than I trusted Zack, like... like I wanted to have sex with him?

I dropped my fork on my plate. "Thank you May," I said awkwardly. "It was great."

May looked at me, calculating, for a few minutes. "Are you feeling well, Alexis? You look quite flushed," she said plainly. "Maybe you should go back upstairs and sleep a little more. Get out of those filthy clothes. I'm sure Lina – or you, Jina, have some clothes you could borrow."

Tawny shook his head. "I went and picked up Alexis's stuff yesterday night. It's upstairs if you want to get changed." His eyes were piercing me and I couldn't meet his gaze.

"Good, good," May smiled. "If Alexis is feeling better later, she can help me down here. I could always do with some help."

I drained my glass and stood up. "I'll see you later, Jina. Thank you May," I said, retreating upstairs as fast as I could without looking like I was running away. Tactical retreat like Lydecker taught us.

I had never looked at a boy before like that. I had never considered any man I had been with for any period of time attractive. It scared me more than anything I had faced. Tawny was my brother – the brother who had comforted me when I was scared, who held me when I had seizures, who had my back during training games. There was no way Tawny and were even closely related, but he was my brother in every other way. And I just wanted to press myself against him and kiss him.

I made it back up the stairs and into Tawny's 'apartment', tugging off my clothes. I could see my bags stacked next to the couch, my clothes crammed in. I pulled out the least worn t shirt and sweatpants. Finger combing my hair, I looked down at myself. I felt tired. I wanted to stop running, stop working... it made me tired. I just wanted to crawl into bed and wrap myself in a duvet and sleep forever. Just ... I didn't want to know this anymore. I wanted this to stop.

"Lex?"

Tawny appeared behind me, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Are you okay?" He rested his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah..." I trailed off, tugging down the hem of my t shirt.

"...But?" Tawny prompted, turning me around gently.

"I'm just tired..." I sighed, leaning against his still-bare chest. "The running and the hiding."

Tawny hugged me. "We haven't caught up yet," he said, almost grimly. "Was it bad?"

Was it bad? Being beaten to a bloody pulp by a drunkard? Being saved by Zack, being left behind by Zack? Playing a part I didn't know how to play? Not knowing where I was, how everything worked or where my family was? Was it _bad_?

I shrugged, moving away from Tawny. "I lived."

Tawny rolled his eyes. "You Manticore girls, always acting so tough. I'll tell you the truth. It was worse than we could have ever imagined. Manticore may have been our personal hell, but the real world..." Tawny trailed off. "I don't think even Zack knew it'd be like this."

I looked at the floor. "You think we should've stayed?" I asked softly. "Back at Manticore?"

Tawny sighed, and leant over the side of the couch, pulling out a t shirt that obviously hadn't seen the laundry in a few days. Tugging it over his head, Tawny looked past me.

"We wouldn't have known any better if we stayed," Tawny said, half to himself. "We still would've thought it was easy and better out here."

"Eva would still be alive," I murmured. Tawny refocused on me.

"Eva died for us," he said in a stubborn voice that suggested this was an argument he'd had a lot over the last few years. Probably with Zack. "Eva believed this was the better place to be."

"No," I said, meeting his gaze. "I think she thought life couldn't get any worse than it was back there. I think she knew you, me, Max, Syl, Jace, Ben... we all would've ended up dead or wishing we were if we had stayed."

"Do you want to go back, Lexy?" Tawny said his face blank.

I faltered. It was a place I knew. It was a place I could stop running and remember to breathe once in awhile. To a place that was clean. No more dirt or fear or loneliness. I could be with the brothers and sisters that didn't escape. Back to the High Place, and where the monsters stayed in the basement.

"No," I shook my head. "I couldn't."

"Good. Neither could I," Tawny gave me a sheepish grin. And I looked and saw him. He wasn't as old as I presumed. Back at Manticore, he'd always seemed so much bigger, and older, to me. He was only seventeen. Maybe. I was naturally tall for my age, and I came up to his ear. We were just scared kids. Not adults or even, really, teenagers. We were making up for our lost childhoods now, with fear, and running and learning to fit in, to make sure we weren't noticed as anything different.

"I guess you're stuck with me then," I said, smiling at him.

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If you are reading this, please click the nice review button and let me know what you thought.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note: **I hope you all enjoy this chapter. LionHeart, thank you for pointing out how outdated my summary was. I did start this when I was 14, and it was meant to be a spin off from a fic by my friend, and I got no choice about the pairings. But since then, it has evolved into a seperate entity and the pairings have been altered - my fic, my pairings.

Thanks to ChocRocks and Professional Scatterbrain for such lovely reviews.

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I stayed with Tawny, in that tiny two roomed place he optimistically called an apartment. I relinquished his bed back to him the second night, and made my own bed on the couch – it folded out into a sofa bed, with a thin mattress. It was soft enough to remind me how far I'd come, but hard enough to remind me of my childhood pallet back in the barracks.

May had very kindly unearthed some old pillows for me, and a blanket. They were clean, and served a purpose. Jina had given me some old clothes and I had a place to be. But, after the initial few days of 'recovering', May had made it quite clear I was not a charity case. I would work for her, just like Tawny did.

May did pay us – sometimes – and it was just enough to cover tryptrophan, and to have Tawny's barcode removed. My hair covered mine, and I covered it up with some of Lina's make up – make up I had slipped out of her school bag one afternoon when she wasn't looking. May was nice to us, telling me I could come and talk to her anytime I wanted, and that we could live in her building as long as we needed.

May ran restaurant – and it did terribly. Local business men turned up for lunch, but not many, and not often. I spent my mornings wiping down tables with a greasy cloth and washing dishes.

I didn't ever ask what Tawny did for May. But I was the house maid. I cleaned the entire building, and waited tables when there were customers. I'd work from first thing, until dinner without a break, for a crumpled twenty dollar note once a month. If I was lucky. But, it was worth it, just to be able to see Tawny every day, to be back with the man I loved. With the brother I loved.

I was doing the dishes one rainy morning; the twins were off to school. I had hinted to May that I wanted to go back to school – I could finish high school and have my diploma in a year or less. Tawny hadn't made it to school since the escape, and didn't intend to ever go. But he did indulge my idea of graduating high school. May had crushed all my hopes, pointing out she was not a local refuge, but a business woman. So, I slipped back into my role as house keeper.

That was the day May was heading out of town for some reason. She didn't offer an explanation and I didn't ask. Tawny had already left with a piece of toast, and bag May had silently handed him, and May was waiting to drop Jina and Lina off.

"See you tonight, Alexis," Jina smiled at me. I smiled back, brushing my hair from my eyes. Jina was nice to me, slipping me her old clothes and magazines, offering to style my hair for me. But there was a gap between us – she was very much the privileged immigrant daughter, and I was the working girl – no money, no parents and little education – as far as she knew.

Lina knew this, and spent every second of the day reminding me my position as Tawny's roommate was precarious. Lina spent the rest of her time flinging herself at Tawny, while Tawny fended her off with an air of disgust.

"I will see you tomorrow night, Alexis," May said as she picked up her purse – a cheap vinyl copy of a much more expensive designer bag. "Jia Li and Li Na will stay over at friends' houses tonight. I expect no trouble, but my cell phone number is next to the telephone."

I nodded, stacking all the white plates back on the shelf, wiping my soapy hands on my jeans. "Yes, May," I replied. "Call us if you have any worries."

May nodded once, before leaving me alone in the building. I walked out into the dark restaurant, deadlocking the door behind May and the girls. I had two whole days of freedom – or one, if I got my cleaning done now.

I loved the twins' room. It was painted pink and white, with posters of old movie stars stuck up on the walls, and colourful butterflies made from rice paper stuck everywhere. The wardrobe burst with clothes and shoes that were often forgotten after the initial purchase. I could stay there for hours, fingering the crepe-like skirts, and silky tops; every tailored skirt and mail-ordered dress hung there, teasing and tempting me. Showing something I would never have; something I could never catch a hold of.

A black navel-baring top and a pair of jeans with bright coloured butterflies up the hem had always caught my attention. I had tried to add a tiny bow to my jeans, but I didn't know how to sew and Lina was very patronizing about my sad attempts.

I slowly straightened up their room. If a tube of lipstick or some change slipped down behind the dressing tables, I would calmly slip it into my pocket. They were good people, but I was desperate. My clothes were packed into bags beside my couch-bed. Our savings was kept up Tawny's mattress, all thirty nine dollars of it. The lipsticks were slipped under my own mattress. There were nine now, in different shades of red. I could probably sell them on the streets for a dollar or two. Enough to buy a cup of coffee, at least.

I was down in the laundry room when someone knocked on the kitchen door – a heavy red door with three deadlocks that deliveries came too. And they more like thumped on the door. Leaving the wet clothes in the sink, I slipped down into the empty kitchen, and began to unbolt the door.

It was Tawny, looking panicked and dishevelled. "Lexy," he grabbed me by the shoulders and looked at me very closely. "You're here, thank god. Get upstairs and turn off all the lights, any radios... It needs to look like no one is here." He spun around, locking the red door behind us. "Hurry up."

"What's going on?" I said uneasily, hovering around him.

"Lydecker," Tawny said, running his hands through his hair. "I don't know if anyone followed me. But I saw him. He's here in Boston."

I felt like someone had poured iced water down my back. I looked up at Tawny, my eyes widening. "Lydecker's here?" I said in a tiny voice.

Tawny nodded. "We need to pretend no one is here, okay? And be ready to leave as soon as possible. Go upstairs, and turn off all the lights and stuff. Then go straight to our room, and wait, okay?"

I nodded, and slipped off, up the stairs, hitting the light switch as I went. The entire house went completely dark, and I looked up to the top floor – May's house was six stories high, with a winding staircase. Each of the floors, except the bottom and the very top, had a landing, and a door, and you could keep walking up. The top floor had no door; it just opened onto the main bedroom – May's bedroom. And her room's lights had to be turned off separately.

I hurried up the steps, pulling all the doors shut as I went.

May's room was done entirely in white and gold. It almost generated a light of its own. A long dressing table, covered in May's jewellery and make up, and an enormous bed with white and gold covers.

I hit the switch, the large, modern steel chandelier going dark, and I went back down to Tawny's room. It was much darker in there, and I knew I couldn't turn the lights on here; even with the newspaper covering the windows, it would give us away. Tawny had talked me through his escape plan a few times, and I knew what I had to do.

I crammed most of my things into a small messenger bag – easy to carry when running. Tawny had his own bag in the wardrobe, ready for our escape at any moment. I slipped on a clean, dark green sweatshirt, and a pair of combat boots Tawny had managed to get for me.

I sat on my sofa bed, waiting for Tawny to come up. It felt like my heart was in my throat, as I nervously twisted my long hair into a braid. There was one traitorous thought floating around my mind – what if Lydecker had gotten Tawny downstairs? What if Tawny had seen Lydecker, and taken off, hoping to lead Lydecker away from May and her family, and from me?

It seemed like an eternity before I heard the door swing open, and saw Tawny appear, looking... frightened. I could almost taste his fear, as he sat down next to me, pulling me roughly against him.

"I called Zack and left a message on his voice mail," Tawny told me in a hushed voice. "If it is Lydecker, we're getting out of Boston tonight. If he followed me back here, we won't have long to wait."

I nodded, breathing in Tawny's scent of leather and sweat before he pulled away and slipped into the bedroom. Moments later, he returned with his own bag – slightly bigger than mine. Digging around in his bag, Tawny handed me a holster and a small silver handgun.

"Tawny..." I said, eyeing the gun uneasily.

"You know how to shoot a gun, Lexy," he said, quietly. "If it comes down to it, just shoot to wound. Good old Lydecker will live, and so will we."

I swallowed hard, and stood up, strapping the holster round my legs... and getting tangled. I looked up, almost embarrassed; as Tawny gave me a Look, before crouching down to untangle me, wordlessly.

"Been a long time..." I murmured as he straightened up.

"I can tell," he replied with a grin. "You were a dead shot back at Manticore, and now you get tangled strapping on the holster."

"New fangled crap," I said primly, "I prefer the classics."

I never heard Tawny's reply. Because that was when the end of our time in Boston began – we both heard someone knock loudly on the front door – thank god for our superior hearing. I whipped my heard around, gazing at the door.

"Tawn..." I whimpered, sounding like nothing more than a scared child.

He was silent, listening carefully. And I knew he heard exactly what I did.

"... Secure the perimeter. There is one known X5 fugitive in this building, designation X5-327. Male, approximately six foot tall and a hundred and eighty pounds." Lydecker's voice sounded like he was issuing the orders in the same room we were.

Tawny breathed a sigh of relief. "He doesn't know about you. You'll be okay."

"I'm not leaving you behind," I hissed, grabbing his wrist. "You and I are leaving this building together, whether it's in Lydecker's custody or running like hell, okay?"

He didn't get a chance to argue with me – we could hear the soldiers moving around downstairs, and some of them heading upstairs.

"We need to go, now," Tawny said, swinging open the door. Before I could ask what his exact plan was, now that we couldn't slip out of the back kitchen door, Tawny dragged me onto the stairwell. And I heard a gasp. Four steps down, was Lydecker. And we looked directly at each other.

There was a split second when he and I just looked at each other. He was older than I remembered, and slightly deflated. Not as scary as I recalled – just an aging man. I know I flinched as I saw him studying me, and as he reached for something in his coat pocket.

I don't think Lydecker recognized me. How could he? Last time he saw me, I was just a child – an androgynous looking little girl with no hair - just another X5. He stared at me for a second – as Tawny dragged me up the stairs, without ever looking back, and Lydecker drew something out of his pocket and held it up.

Just as I saw Lydecker press the button, I realized it was a camera. I held my free hand out in front of my face, turning my head around as the flash went off. And then he started yelling for back up – a second unconfirmed X5 was in the building.

We made it up to May's room, I was still reeling. Tawny dragged me into the small bathroom at the end of the room. "Climb onto the ledge, and jump," he said quietly. "Make it over the fence, there's a dumpster filled with old newspapers and stuff. I'll follow you down. I need to get something first."

He left me in that bathroom. I slid the window open, and climbed out, onto the ledge, waiting for Tawny to get back. He snatched a few things off May's dressing table, and as Lydecker made it up into the airy room, he fired a gun as Tawny slammed the bathroom door, flicking the lock. Without a pause, Tawny slipped out the window, grabbed me around the waist, and leapt off the ledge, dragging me with him.

Six floors... it was a scary fall. It reminded me something of that first foster home, of the fall I took when my foster father Glen threw me down half a flight of stairs... except this went on for longer, and I was clutched around the waist by my brother.

The landing was a bad one – I had not been ready to jump, and had weighed Tawny down. Tawny hit the fence as we fell, and I heard him hiss in pain. I whacked my knee on the side of the Dumpster, and my bag drained me down, but we made it. Lydecker's men were firing at us from May's room, and Tawny pointed to a small hole in the fence, that would lead us onto the next street.

It was still early in the evening, but the rest of the night was spent running through the city, occasionally doubling back and hiding in the shadows. My lungs felt like they were burning, but I was tense - And wired. Scared. Fear is a very bitter taste in my mouth, but reassuring in its own way.

Tawny's slowing up, and lagging behind. We're going to camp out at an abandoned hotel tonight. And Zack will be here soon. Our mantra – _Zack will be here soon._

The hotel was in a gothic style. The doors are unlocked, and lead us into what was once the lobby – a long desk for check in, some over turned coffee tables and chairs greeting us. And dust, everywhere, covering everything. I can hear rats and cockroaches scuttling around the place, but other than that, the building is suspiciously quiet.

"Lex," Tawny says suddenly, sounding strange.

I turn around to see him leaning against the door, clutching his shoulder. And I can see the blood stain on his shirt, and smell it from here. "You were hit," I said, in a horrified way, walking towards him.

"Yeah. As we fell," he winces as I shoulder his bag and lead him to one of the chairs that remained standing. "Only a graze..."

I dump our bags next to the chair and crouch down. "Take off your shirt," I say, looking at his pale face in concern. "I can't do much without a first aid kit."

Tawny nodded, tugging his t shirt off, my stomach doing somersaults as I see his sleek chest, smeared blood marring his incredible physique. He's right; the bullet didn't go through, it's only a graze. He's an X5, so he won't get blood poisoning or infection. Blood loss is the thing that concerns me the most.

"Got anything in your bag I can use?" I ask softly. "Some tissues or a bandage?"

"Might be something in the side pocket," Tawny winced, leaning back, closing his eyes.

"Talk to me, Tawn," I say mildly, hunting through his bag. "Can't let you pass out just yet, okay?"

"Okay." He sounds drained. "Where do you wanna go next, Lex?"

"Next?" I unzip the side pocket of his bag and pull out a handful of stuff.

"Yeah. Zack'll move us now." His hand plays with the end of my braid. "Maybe Florida. Hot girls in bikinis over there."

I smack him gently on the leg as I go through the stuff. A few safety pins, some antiseptic – thank god – and a handful of tissues. At least I could clean the wound, but it would definitely need stitches.

"How about Las Vegas?" I offer, as I pour some of the antiseptic – not much left in the small bottle – onto the tissues, and dabbing at the bullet wound gently. "I've always wanted to see Vegas."

Tawny let out a half hearted chuckle. "Never would have picked you for an aspiring stripper, baby sister."

"It's been a dream of mine... for so long," I said, mock thoughtfully. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Tawny shifted, wincing, and opened his eyes. "You didn't get hit, did you?"

"No, I'm fine," I replied, straightening up, working out how I could bandage the wound.

"There's some food in my bag," Tawny said. "Didn't see what I grabbed – some coleslaw, maybe."

I rummaged through his bag. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, you must be too."

I was, but I was more worried about him. He was horribly pale, and in shock. If he lost consciousness, there was nothing I could do for him without drawing Lydecker's attention. "I'm fine."

I found the food jammed down the side – some peanut brittle wrapped in foil and two plastic containers – some coleslaw and some chicken salad, both left over from dinner the previous night.

"Peanut brittle, coleslaw or chicken salad?" I offered. "Take your pick."

We ate silently, using our fingers. Tawny wolfed down the rest of the salad, and I licked mayonnaise off my fingers. I broke the peanut brittle up into smaller pieces and I leant against his legs, offering him some.

"Beats Manticore meals," Tawny chuckled. "Comfortable chair, decent food, pretty girl... all I need now is a bed and a beer..." He shifted, wincing again. "Remember the meals at Manticore?"

I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "That grey mush?" I shuddered. "I could hardly swallow it."

"Best time was when we got the candy for that experiment," Tawny said. "Even Zack enjoyed it."

My smile faded. "He'll separate us, won't he?" my voice faltered.

Silence.

"He'll try. If we can convince him 'safety in numbers,' maybe we can stay together," Tawny said, sounding less than convinced.

"How's your shoulder?" I changed the subject, swallowing down the fear that I'd lose Tawny again. I was never myself when I wasn't with Tawny, I couldn't imagine trying to survive this world, trying to escape from Lydecker, without him by my side.

"Numb," Tawny replied. "I'm gonna get some sleep, okay? You should too. I don't know what time Zack will get here."

"Okay. I'll shake you in an hour or so, make sure you're okay," I said, wrapping my arms around him in an impromptu hug. Tawny wrapped his right arm – the uninjured one – around my waist.

"I'll be fine. Built to last, we are," he said, almost cheerfully. "Get some sleep."

I pulled out a coat from my bag and spread it out on the ground, lying down on it a few metres away from Tawny, with a view of the entrance. I slid my gun underneath my coat and closed my eyes.

And, what seemed like just a few minutes, I was jerked awake, someone's hand over my mouth. I jerked away, but the grip was too much for me. I fumbled for my gun and managed to shove the intruder off with a well aimed knee in the stomach. And my gun was aimed at the person's head, my heart pounding.

"Lex! Put the gun down! It's me!" Zack hissed.

"Zack," I said with a sigh of relief, dropping my gun, and crawling over to hug him. "You came."

"I came," Zack agreed, patting my hair and pulling away. "Lydecker's men are all over the city. We need to get out, and get out tonight."

"Tawny's injured," I said in a quiet voice, motioning to Tawny, dead to the world in the chair. "Bullet graze, left shoulder. I applied some antiseptic, but it needs stitches and a bandage."

Zack frowned. "Okay. I'll be back in twenty minutes. Have your stuff ready, and wake Tawny up."

"Okay," I said, gathering my coat, gun and the rest of our things and stuffed them in my bag, as Zack disappeared out the door. I leant over Tawny, shaking him. "Tawn, Zack's here, we gotta go."

Nothing.

"Tawn?" I punched his shoulder. "Tawny?"

"Lex," he grunted, his eyes fluttering. "What's wrong?"

"Zack's here. He's gone to get some bandages for your shoulder, and then we're getting out of here. Are you okay?" I asked, slightly pitifully. I just wanted to curl up with Tawny and be left alone. Every time he grinned at me, I wanted to kiss him. I've never had the urge to touch, hold or kiss another person. And this guy was meant to be my older brother.

Tawny stretched out a little and stood up, wincing. "Yeah. My shoulder's hurting again," he peeled his blood stained t shirt off, and pulled another one out of his bag. Tugging it on, he sank back into the chair and looked up at me.

"Lexy, what's wrong?" he asked, leaning forward. "Are you okay?"

"You gave me a fright," I said, closing my eyes. "You wouldn't wake up. I thought something was wrong."

I felt Tawny's good arm snake around my waist and pull me gently into his lap. "Hey, I'm fine. Just my body healing. I'm not going into a coma anytime soon." I rested my head on his shoulder. "You don't have to worry, Lex."

"I do, anyway," I said. "I missed you. I can't go back to doing this by myself." I sat up and looked at him. "Like I said, you're stuck with me," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Tawny touched my cheek. "You're the only one I want to be stuck with," he said, with a small grin. "I..."

"Ready to move out?" came a voice.

Zack stood in the doorway, with a paper bag and a frown on his face.

"Yeah," I slid off Tawny's lap and grabbed my bag. Zack reached into his pocket and tossed me some keys.

"Put your stuff in the car, Lexy, and wait there. Tawny and I will be out in a second," he said, in a gruff voice.

I nodded, grabbing Tawny's bag and slipped out the door, unlocking and climbing into the backseat of the car, just as the rain started. And I waited for Tawny and Zack.

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If you got this far, I'd love a review. Thanks!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Title:** Kiss That Girl

**Author:** Alexandra Bruderlin

**Notes: **See? I'm trying valiantly to get more updates going. And for all of you who have been hanging on for The Kiss, I promise you it happens in this chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and keep reviewing so I know which fics to update faster! Now, I must run away and hopefully finish my PissOff2 update!

Once again, flames based upon ship preferences are mocked at. Constructive criticism is accepted gracefully. Gushing reviews are beloved.

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The car trip was long. I know that. Tawny was in the back seat with me, and ended up falling asleep before we left Boston – he needed sleep for his shoulder to heal. I stayed awake for awhile, just staring out the window. Zack didn't talk to me, and I didn't talk to him, as we left the city limits behind.

I did fall asleep, slumped against Tawny. I didn't know it until Zack stopped for petrol, and even then I fell right back asleep.

It was hours later when I woke up, but it still only felt like minutes. I felt a cooler breeze hit my face, and the sun hitting my face. I blinked, sitting up, to see Zack leaning against my open door, frowning at me.

"Tawny's already inside. We're stopping for a meal," Zack said simply. "Come on."

I unbuckled my belt and followed Zack into the diner. Tawny was already sitting in a booth, sipping at a chipped white mug. I smiled and slid in next to him. "Morning."

"Morning," Tawny grinned at me. "Sleep well?"

"Okay, I guess," I shrugged. "You?"

"Like a log," Tawny looked up at Zack. "Hey bro thanks for bailing us out."

Zack grunted a response and sat opposite us, watching us carefully. Tawny nudged his mug towards me. I picked it up, taking a large sip. And I winced. Strong, black coffee – very bitter. I couldn't cope with coffee, it was too strong for me; especially the way Tawny took it. I swallowed sharply, and pushed the cup back towards Tawny.

"Gross," I said, shaking my head to get rid of the taste. "Warn me next time." I elbowed him gently in the ribs. Zack cleared his throat and stood up.

"Not coffee, Lexy?"

"No," I said, looking up. "Anything but coffee. I'm going to the bathroom." I slid out of the booth and out the back to the toilets. And I stood in front of the mirrors there. My hair was tangled around my face, grimy smears around my entire face. Dark circles under my eyes and no colour in my cheeks. The signs of a seizure coming on. I wiped my hands dry on my jeans which felt damp and sticky from continuous wear.

I finger combed my hair so it sat flat, and tried my hardest to clean my face before I went back out to the diner. It wasn't anything special; a kind of worn place with vinyl booths and women on the wrong side of fifty wearing white uniforms, pouring the coffee.

Zack and Tawny were already wolfing down plates of food when I sat down. I barely acknowledged what I was eating I was so hungry. I think there were pancakes and eggs, and maybe some bacon. It was hot and reasonably fresh, so I wasn't complaining.

I was slurping up the last of my milkshake as Zack got up to pay. Tawny casually slung his arm around my shoulder. It felt good not to be in that stuffy Chinese restaurant, playing maid to May and the twins.

I pushed my milkshake container away from me - the milk had made me feel a little better and I could only pray that it would hold my seizures off - and turned to look at Tawny.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, smiling up at him.

"Zack's going out of his way to take us to New York," Tawny said cheerfully. "And then, we're off to Chicago."

"Come on," Zack interrupted us. "We've got to get going."

The trip to New York City was a long one. I think Zack double backed a few times to make sure we didn't have any Manticore operatives on our tail. We stopped at a few more road side diners for hot and greasy food, and I found myself wishing for a comfortable bed and home cooked food. Even though the most complicated 'home cooked' meal I had ever made was cold chicken salad.

The last night was the longest. Tawny and I were in the backseat, sharing pizza out of a box and keeping quiet so we didn't bother Zack. I had found an old paper back book at one of the service stations we had stopped at, and I read that, taking absolutely no interest in the plotline. It helped pass the time.

Then Zack's cell phone went off. It lit up and hummed a generic little tune. But something about that tune affected Zack. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and snatched the phone up.

"Zack… Syl… Look, my orders were clear… he is? Shit, Syl…"

He was getting angrier by the second. I tensed, exchanging a look with Tawny. I could hear the phone cracking as Zack gripped the phone tighter. With a grim look on his face, Zack unsnapped his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. I leant across Tawny, trying to listen to what was being said. Tawny shoved me right back into my seat and rolled his eyes.

'_You'll just piss him off more,' _Tawny signed. I made a face and picked up my book again, once again refocusing on the boring plot. We could both hear Zack yelling from outside the car, and I tried to listen to whatever Zack was saying to the person on the other end… Syl.

"No Syl. I gave you an order and you directly disobeyed… you want me to stop yelling? You tell him to pack up his things and move on to Ohio… no, Syl. Fuck, just do IT!"

I winced, and wondered what Syl had done to deserve such a loud ticking off from Zack. I blinked and realised I hadn't turned a page in a long time. I hastily did, tearing the edge of the page. And promptly realised I hadn't read a word of the previous page.

"Eavesdropper," Tawny tugged a lock of my hair. "Good book?"

"Shitty," I shrugged, closing it. "What do you think Syl did?"

Tawny snorted. "No guesses there."

I gave him a strange look, but before I could question Tawny's totally random comment, Zack got back into the car, throwing his cell phone onto the passenger seat with surprising force. I tossed my book onto the floor of the car and looked at Zack via the rear view mirror.

"Everything is okay with Syl, right?" I asked directly, one hand reaching up to knot my hair off my face with a cracked hair clip I'd found amongst my things. Probably something I'd taken from the twins' at some stage and forgotten about. It was cream coloured plastic with little red diamantes all over it. But I must have stepped in it – it had a large crack right down the middle and had long scratches across the surface.

Tawny caught my fingers and began smoothing my hair back and refastening the clasp of the clip. I smiled thanks to Tawny and looked back at Zack through the rear-view mirror. His gaze was focused unhappily on mine.

"She disobeyed an order," he replied shortly, starting the car again.

"E.T.A?" Tawny asked calmly as he sat back in his seat.

"An hour and twenty, I'd say," Zack said, pulling back into the traffic.

He was almost dead set right – an hour and twenty three, according to my watch. By the time we pulled up outside the apartment building – a nondescript brick block – I was antsy and would've happily gone for a twenty block run by the time we pulled up. I practically leapt out of the car before Zack had stopped.

We didn't exchange words as we grabbed out things and walked into the building. It was pretty nice for a Post-Pulse apartment block. Two lifts at the end of a long hallway, after a row of rusted mail boxes, with the apartment numbers painted on in yellow paint.

The apartment itself was 14B, and was absolutely huge compared to most of my homes over the years. I was amazed at the sheer size of the place. I dropped my bag in the doorway and walked in, ignoring whatever Zack was saying to me.

The carpet was cat piss yellow-brown and mostly frayed, with nails sticking up from it at the edges. There was one old, brown couch that looks like it had seen its fair share of parties and one night stands. There were two bedrooms, utterly identical – white-grey walls, a double bed and a dresser held together with masking tape. It was one of the nicest places I'd ever lived. I looked out the window, onto the street corner, where there were some shops and a dumpster.

"Lex." Tawny walked into the bedroom. "Zack wants to talk to you."

He's in the kitchen, checking the messages on the phone. I slip into the kitchen and take a seat on the stool on the other side of the counter, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

"You were ignoring me." His voice is flat and he doesn't look up from his phone but I don't dare roll my eyes when my happiness is so precarious; one snarky move and he can physically drag me away from my first proper home and away from Tawny. I give a small smile and resist the urge to tell him that he is the only one who takes himself quite this seriously.

"Sorry. What's up?" I lean forward and catch his eyes, and Zack pockets his phone and looks at me with the slightly annoyed gaze we all knew so well.

"You and Tawny can stay in New York for awhile – together," Zack says, turning his face away from me as if the happiness written so raw across my face offends him. "But don't do anything stupid, Lexy. No fuck-ups." His gaze meets mine and I frown, wondering if he's making me promise something I don't understand. I shrug.

"I wasn't trained to be an idiot, Zack," I reply evenly, with the Manticore arrogance he expects in lieu of respect.

"Good. I've got some things to do, but I want you and Tawny to stay down," Zack shrugs his leather jacket on and looks at me. "You know the number."

And before I can ask him what exactly Syl did to have Zack dump me and Tawn in New York when we were meant to go to Chicago, he was gone.

"Lexy?" Tawny reappears, tugging a shirt over his head, letting me catch a glimpse of his perfectly defined chest, and I felt my cheeks flush. "Zack gone already?"

"Yeah, he just left. Any hot water left?"

"Yeah," Tawny tugged his t shirt down. "I'm going to go and get some Chinese takeout – you want anything?"

"Can you get me a Chow Mien and a Coke?" I asked, unbuttoning my shirt. "I'm going to use the rest of the hot water."

The water pressure in the shower was non existent but I scrubbed my hair with the cake of soap left in there, feeling like half a ton of dirt and sweat was washing down the drain. The oversized t shirt and clean underwear I wore had never felt so soft and clean. I pulled a pair of socks right up to my knees and dumped my laundry on the floor of my bedroom, so I could do the washing the next day.

There was a crappy black and white television in the lounge room that played three stations – one in English, one in Spanish and one in Mandarin. I settled on a show in English, closing my eyes as the dialogue from the soap opera washed over me.

I woke up to someone stroking my hair and I wriggled away to find Tawny standing over me, with a smirk on his face.

"Got the food, unless you want to keep dreaming, Sleeping Beauty."

I roll off the couch and land on my feet, scraping my hair back into a ponytail. "I'm starving," I yawn and press my hand to my mouth to cover it up.

We sit on the kitchen bench, legs swinging and ate out of the plastic containers. We drank coke from the bottle, the silence companionable. He laughs and pulls my hair and his proximity makes my head spin in a good way. If I leaned up a little or if he just leant down a little, we could… I jerk backwards and almost fall in the sink before Tawny hurls me forward by my forearms, me slumping against him. I look up at him, rolling my eyes.

"For an X5, you're as clumsy as hell," Tawny smooths my hair back and pulls me off the counter with him. "We need to get some sleep – you need to get some sleep; last thing I need is you falling down in a seizure because you didn't get enough… sleep, I mean."

He swings me into his arms and walks me down the hall, my arms laced around his neck and he places me on my bed, kissing me quickly half on the cheek and half on the lips. I tighten my arms around his neck for a second and time sort of slows down as we pull apart; I lie back against the pillows, smiling slightly, and he pulls up, hovering above me.

"I thought he was going to split us up," Tawny roles in beside me, his fingers lacing with mine, his breath hot against my cheek. I roll onto my side and look at him carefully. He's lying on his back and his eyes are closed.

"I thought I was going to have to watch him walk away with you again," he murmurs. "I couldn't lose you again, Lex."

I lie flat again, wanting to slap myself for not leaning down and kissing him hard. I've never felt like this towards any other boy before, yet I want to kiss my brother like it's something I'd do every other day.

"Zack left me in Boston on purpose," I replied, untangling my hand from his, stretching my arms out.

"You were almost beaten and raped by that asshole Sanchez." I can see Tawny's eyes in the light; they're almost glowing gold.

I smile at him. "But you saved me. My hero." The words feel foreign on my tongue, but they sound right in the room. Tawny kisses my cheek again, a softer, longer kiss on the cheek and slides from my bed. I close my eyes and listen to him switch off the kitchen light and move back towards his room.

I curl up into a ball. I bite my lip and wonder what Tawny's lips would feel like if I kissed him properly. If he'd push me away and tell me in a quiet voice that he loved me like a sister. I lay awake, looking at the stars before sitting up. I pushed the sleeves of my shirt up and pulled the socks off my feet, tossing them onto my bed before slipping down the hall.

Tawny slept shirtless, in his boxers. He lay on the left side of the bed, the streetlights outside reflecting light and shadows across his face, so I couldn't read his expression.

"Tawn?" my voice came out softly but strongly. He faced me and I knew he hadn't been asleep either.

I crawled across the bed and lay against his side. I knew he was giving me a quizzical look. I looked up at him and we both leant forward at the same moment. His hand came to rest on my hip, my hand cupped his cheek. And he kissed me.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Title:** Kiss That Girl  
**Author:** Alexandra Bruderlin  
**Feedback:** Would be lovely if you feel inclined.  
**Rating:** M  
**Notes:** This chapter is dedicated to ZombieGurl98 for being so patient. This was an incredibly hard chapter to write. Thank you so much to all my reviewers who have shown such support for this fic; it really is my pet project. Since there was so long between updates, there's a little flashback to refresh everyone...  
**Warnings:** Language  
**Disclaimer: **Lexy belongs to me. Tawny indirectly belongs to Kara. Everyone else belongs to James Cameron and FOX, even though they so don't deserve them. No profit is being made, I swear.

* * *

_Tawny slept shirtless, in his boxers. He lay on the left side of the bed, the streetlights outside reflecting light and shadows across his face, so I couldn't read his expression._

"_Tawn?" my voice came out softly but strongly. He faced me and I knew he hadn't been asleep either._

_I crawled across the bed and lay against his side. I knew he was giving me a quizzical look. I looked up at him and we both leant forward at the same moment. His hand came to rest on my hip, my hand cupped his cheek. And he kissed me._

It wasn't my first kiss; Joel had kissed me once or twice when I was playing at being 'Alecia'. But this kiss was different; it felt like my first kiss because never had Joel kissed me like that, or touched me so gently, stroking my hip through my nightshirt. I slipped my arm around his neck and deepened the kiss, my eyes closed.

Tawny began sliding my nightshirt up and I pulled back and shoved my hair back from my eyes and curled up next to him, my own hand catching his and pulling my nightshirt back down. He relaxed against the bed too, pulling me towards him, my head resting against his shoulder, and my feet icy against his legs. And we fell asleep tangled up in the blankets and each other like we were back at Manticore.

When I woke up, still curled around Tawny's warm body, I felt deliciously slothful but absolutely starving. My nightshirt was bunched around my waist and I pulled myself up pulling my hair off my neck; it was tangled like a spider's web. Tawny's room seemed almost depressing in the early morning light – the walls were grey with dirty marks across them. The light fitting was black with grime and the corpses of bugs and the carpet was frayed in a great rope across the room.

Tawny was known for sleeping like the dead, and he hadn't so much as flinched as I wriggled around in his bed. I gave up trying to wake him, and padded out to the kitchen, ignoring the grime I could feel clinging to the bottom of my feet.

The cartons from the previous night's Chinese food were still scattered over the kitchen sink; we'd eaten most of it, but a few of the carton's still had the odd spring roll or something in the bottom. But when I saw several cockroaches run across the bench, I dropped the cartons in the sink and wiped my hands on my nightshirt. Food was something I definitely needed but there was something about eating left over Chinese the cockroaches have already had a go at. Eww. It was just past six, and Tawny wouldn't be up until at least eight. I could go and find food or wash some of my clothes – I had one clean zip-front sweatshirt and no clean jeans. If I was _lucky_, I might have clean socks and underwear in my bag.

I left Tawny sleeping, changing into my jeans – that were so dirty, they felt damp - and my sweatshirt, and gathered up our dirty laundry in a garbage bag to take to the Laundromat – of all the businesses that shut down after the Pulse, Laundromats had flourished because no one could afford to run their own washing machine or dryer, so it wouldn't be too difficult to find one. I raided Tawny's wallet for a handful of quarters, the coins jangling loudly from my sweatshirt pocket.

It was barely seven as I made my way down the street. There were a few people walking in the streets, some in suits and heading towards work, and others having nothing else to do except walk the streets of New York City in the early morning hours.

I found a Laundromat on the next street, decorated with a blue neon light sign, with dirty linoleum floors and three walls of washing machines and dryers. A skinny man in grubby suit pants sat at a desk in the window, paging through a battered comic book, obviously the owner.

I didn't acknowledge him, but moved towards the rusted machines, dumping our jeans and sweatshirts into it and feeding coins into the side.

I couldn't leave our things in the machine and go and find breakfast; most likely someone would steal our clothes and neither Tawny nor I had enough clothes to let someone help themselves to them.

Tawny. I'd been trying to ignore what happened the night before since I left the apartment; well, not ignore but just not think about it. What could happen between us? If Zack thought that Tawny and I were together as anything more than brother and sister, he'd relocate us both faster than I could imagine; and the truth was that since Tawny had found me, I'd felt safer than ever before. It didn't matter that Lydecker got close enough to touch me, or how bad working at the Chinese restaurant really had been, it had automatically been better because Tawny was there with me.

I sat atop the machine next to mine, and found a water-logged, and sun warped magazine that was only two years old and paged through it without actually looking at the pages, my left knee jiggling nervously against the machine. I knew Zack; he'd find out that Tawny was my weakness, and Zack wouldn't abide by any weaknesses, emotional or physical. Zack had left me behind enough times in the future when I begged and pleaded with him to let me stay with him – he wouldn't listen to reason if it didn't agree with his personal principles.

The owner shot me a look – my leg swinging against the washing machine was obviously irritating him, with the echoing noise it made. I bit my lip and tucked my legs underneath myself and refocused on the magazine, detailing society's ills with the odd page about a washed up celebrity and a recipe that no one could cook because all of the ingredients were impossible to get.

I smoothed out the article about a Post-Pulse actress, with long gold-blonde hair piled on top of her head in loose curls. My own hair hung loose around my face, on my shoulders and I twisted some of it around my fingers – the actress wore her neck bare, her dress long and ice blue, baring her midriff, her shoulders and her back, and I wondered what Zack would say if I did my hair up and wore a dress like that.

I wondered what Tawny would say.

I flicked to the back of the magazine, examining an article on unemployment in New York, my mind still stuck on that beautiful dress; I couldn't remember the last time I had worn a dress or a skirt that wasn't skin tight. My entire wardrobe now consisted of jeans in different stages of threadbare, and t shirts that never looked truly clean.

"Lex."

Tawny had burst into the Laundromat, wearing a pair of jeans that looked even grosser (if that was possible) than the ones that I had brought down here to wash, and a band t shirt that bore several holes.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Tawny came up to me, and offered me a paper bag. "You shouldn't have run off without telling me where you were going – new city and all that jazz. Grabbed you something to eat."

I opened the paper bag and looked inside – a sugary, jam doughnut that felt warm through the brown paper. I grinned up at him and took a bite. "Oh god, that's good," I said, through a mouthful of fried dough, sugar and raspberry jam. I wiped my mouth on my hand. "We needed to do some laundry and you were sleeping."

"Then wake me up," he pulled himself up onto the washing machine next to me. "Not exactly rocket science."

"I can handle myself, Tawn," I laughed, taking another bite of the doughnut. "I'm not completely helpless."

"But we haven't even been in the city twenty four hours yet, and you're running off without even a cell phone?" Tawny rolled his eyes. "You are such a girl."

"I go out to do your laundry, and this is all the thanks I get?" I asked in a teasing voice, finishing my breakfast, crumpling the paper bag up and cramming it in the pocket of my jeans.

"You did my laundry, too?" Tawny grinned. "You didn't say that. But you should've woken me up."

"Whatever," I tossed my hair back. "It's almost done, anyway."

"Good. Cause I am starving – we need to get to the market and pick up some food. Maybe get you a cell phone so you don't go running off on me again," he pulled my hair gently. Before I could answer, the machine let out a sad sounding noise to let us know it was finished.

"We can dry this stuff at home," Tawny jumped off the machine and held his hand out for me to get down. I couldn't meet his gaze, but I did unnecessarily steady myself on his arm, my hair falling into my face.

It didn't take us long to get back to the apartment and rig up a makeshift clothes line in the bathroom – the curtain rob from the lounge room balanced across the top of the shower, and then Tawny dragged me off to the market for food.

"I'm starving," Tawny moaned as we moved into the massive indoor markets, with the huge crates of food and people shoving others out of the way for the best of the food. His arm was resting around my shoulder as he guided me in, and I was tempted to lean into him but bit my lip and looked up at him, with the sweet smile I had perfected over the years.

"Let's do this and then go and get pancakes," I said, twisting out of his grip.

"Okay," Tawny pulled the ends of my hair and we moved into the throng of aggressive shoppers.

We didn't talk about what had happened between us, as cliché as it sounds. I just tried to remove myself from it, I guess. I wasn't a forward sort of girl and I was terrified Zack would turn up and make me leave Tawny behind. I couldn't let that happen. It seemed like my happiness was like spider web or cotton candy – I had a grip on it but it was so fragile, so flimsy, so insubstantial that I could lose it again. I think Tawny tried to talk to me about it several times, but I ducked my head and willed him to let it go, which he did. He always said he could read me like a book.

The first few days were strange for me; I had always been shoved into foster care – weaving lies to get myself by with some normal family (well, 'normal' is relative) who could take care of me. But it was so different with Tawny. He got us both fake IDs (he laughed, and pointed out that all the hippies were grown up now, and no one named a kid 'Tawny' anymore), and painted a pretty lie for anyone who asked. Some woman at the market had asked, eyeing me with my long tangled hair and him with the slightly punk look he was trying out, and Tawny called me his step sister, which still felt weird; my efforts to remove myself entirely from That Kiss were failing miserably.

Tawny got a job fairly easily in the city, on a construction job in the Bronx, which ate up most of his time; I only got to really see him on the weekends. It was harder for me to get a job, still being my young, skinny self. I tried everything, at Tawny's urging, from being a cleaner at a local club to helping at the market but, unlike Boston, no one in New York believed I was sixteen. I had missed my fourteenth birthday sometime during our time at the Chinese restaurant, and my fifteenth was approaching, but the fact was I still looked pretty much like a kid.

Finally, the only job I could get was rolling newspapers at a local newsstand, a job that paid way below the minimum wage, and involved me crouching behind the counter for hours. The Pulse had seriously damaged the journalism industry, and papers were delivered in great piles, leaving it to the newsstand employees to divide the pages up and roll them up. It was up to a woman named Nancy, who was practically blind, to put the pages in order, and she constantly got it wrong. By the time I made it back home of an afternoon, my hands and face were smudged with printing ink and I had a dozen new paper cuts on my hands. It was uncomfortable, sweaty, boring work; five bucks an hour in this economy was virtually child labour.

I spent most of my spare time in the apartment, thinking (read: freaking out) about whatever had changed between me and Tawny. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly had changed, but I knew something had.

It probably didn't help that I kept daydreaming, and he'd catch me staring at him, and give me this unreadable look that usually distracted me from whatever I'd been thinking about (and it wasn't always about The Incident; sometimes it was about creative ways to kill my employer).

It was a Saturday night, which meant we were both home and eating dinner – pizza. Well, Tawny was finishing the pizza; I had started on the cherry ice cream I had liberated from the supermarket a few days earlier. I was leaning against the fridge, spoon in my mouth, wondering if real cherries tasted anything like cherry flavouring.

"We should probably start cooking stuff ourselves, you know," Tawny gestured with his final slice of pizza.

"Why?" I shrugged, pink coloured spit dribbling down my chin, and I almost knocked myself unconscious in my haste to wipe it away.

"Because take out has no nutritional value," Tawny plucked the spoon and the ice cream out of my grip.

"I haven't got scurvy yet," I said in a teasing tone, reaching for my ice cream. Tawny grabbed my hand and spun me around slowly, a mischievous grin on his face as his gaze flicked lower. I tugged my hand away and mock glared. "I don't remember anything about scurvy affecting my ass, Tawn," I said in a coy little voice, and almost threw up on the spot. It just wasn't me that was saying this, that was instigating whatever would come next. I wasn't this person. It was one of those things you want to shriek and clap your hands over your mouth, and apologise for over and over again. But I was frozen in mortification. I had tried so damn hard to let it all go…

"Oh, Lex," Tawny said in a soft voice, pushing some of my hair off of my face. He was barely meeting my eyes. "You're just a kid, I can't…"

If I had been anyone else, any one of my sisters, I probably would have slapped him for that. But something in the way he said it made me step back, and pull myself to sit on the counter, picking up my container of ice cream and stabbing it with my spoon. A thousand responses were running through my head, and I'm pretty sure every single one of them was gleaned from a bad television show or tawdry magazine.

"We're fucked up enough, Lex," Tawny moved towards me, leaning against my legs. "You think people aren't going to ask questions if I'm with a girl as young as you?" The ice cream was melting. "And nothing pisses Zack off more than this."

The brazen side of me slipped out then. "If it wasn't about that, would you?" In that one moment, I hated his eyes because I just couldn't look away.

"You're special to me," he shrugged, stepping back and pulling himself up, next to me. "I think if things were different we probably wouldn't be having this conversation."

I nodded and looked at the rapidly melting ice cream.

Tawny sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "I fucked this up, didn't I?"

I shook my head. "No. I don't really know how this could have gone any other way."

Tawny nodded and moved to throw the pizza box out. I grabbed his arm. "I… you're the first person – the first guy who's ever made me feel like I'm not a freak, and I'm not screwing everything up, and that I'm safe, Tawny. It's always been like that, and it's not something that's gonna change just because of all the shit. I could drop dead tomorrow or in a week or in a decade, and it's always going to be you."

He offered me a small smile. "Then maybe we'll just wake up one day, and all the shit will be fixed."

"Well, Zack's not going to get any less anal," I replied flippantly, "but there's a chance I'll get older."

Tawny looked at the gun that was resting by his wallet, and twisted some of my hair around his fingers. "That's a chance I'd really like you to have, which is why…" he trailed off and shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "I need to get some sleep."

"Probably should have left the deep conversations until breakfast," I said, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "I'll be up for a couple of hours."

"Don't go anywhere," he warned, hovering near me. "This is going to be awkward for awhile, isn't it?"

"Only three more years," I replied sweetly, sliding off of the counter and dumping the dirty mugs in the sink.

"You're becoming a bad ass in your old age, sis," Tawny half laughed. "It's kind of hot."

I flicked the tea towel at him and he left the kitchen, chuckling to himself half heartedly. And I picked up the half full carton of ice cream and threw it against the wall, and watched it leave long, sticky, red trails on the dull coloured wall.

* * *

I solemnly swear that I'm not being totally evil. Just trust me, and I'll do everything in my power to update quickly! 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Title:** Kiss That Girl

**Author:** Lexie Jayne

**Feedback:** Would be lovely if you feel inclined.

**Rating:** PG

**Warnings:** Language

**Disclaimer: **Lexy belongs to me. Tawny indirectly belongs to Kara. Everyone else belongs to James Cameron and FOX, even though  
they so don't deserve them. No profit is being made, I swear.

**Notes: **A minor hiatus and now I'm back. And not just because some of the DA fic I'm seeing sucks so badly, I felt I could do my part to improve it. There was a genuine reason I haven't updated - I wrote myself into a corner and had to do some serious re-plotting to work this out. I can safely say that this is going to be a Very Long Fic that will probably end up around where Dark Angel left off. I hope this was worth waiting for, and I will do everything I can to post Chapter 11 the second I finish it. :ducks angry readers - if there are any left: Please don't be too mad!

Other things, yes, my author name has changed. Huffah! Which means a lot of my old fic will be reformatted and possibly rewritten, so just keep an eye out.

---

New York City was a dark city after the Pulse. You could see the past in the streets of Manhattan, in the handful of expensive, exclusive shops left behind. Those were the shops with bribed guards patting people down for weapons and escorting them inside; the windows displaying nothing but sheets of pastel coloured satin, and maybe a bunch of paper flowers.

But the Pulse had sucked the colour and the joie de vivre out of the city. The Broadway theatres were sealed up, no money for musicals. The last people to have access to the old theatres and to rent the old shops now squatted in those very same buildings – the ladies in the Dior boutique on Fourth Avenue were exactly the same as the older couple who stayed in the thrift shop in Alphabet City.

I managed to sneak into those exclusive shops ones or twice – generally, being the lanky, underfed teenage girl I was, I was hastily dragged back onto the street with numerous threats being thrown out after me.

But those shops were incredible – five or six dresses scattered in a huge white room; three or four individual pieces of jewellery displayed on silky pillows. The customers sat in worn, yet plush seats and sipped coffee whilst the shop assistants tried to sell their overpriced, imported couture.

I ended up prowling the city after I finished work in the newsagency – a few dollars in my pocket, my thin frame draped in a combination of stolen and thrift store clothes and nothing but time. Tawny worked long hours, and since our conversation in the kitchen almost two weeks ago, I didn't really want to spend extensive amounts of time with him, so our days fell into an almost domestic routine.

I left our apartment, which was feeling increasingly small, at day break to wrap newspapers and was done by eleven on a good day. I spent the rest of my time doing useless things – laundry, sleeping, picking pockets, tracking down food and wandering around the streets. I didn't return until after dark, sometimes with food, but usually empty handed and cold.

Tawny was unnecessarily cheerful whenever he did see me; we were safe, had a place to stay and he had a job that kept his mind and hands busy. Construction may have seemed like monkey work to the general population, but Tawny enjoyed it. He suggested I try and get a job in the communications department, but I had shrugged it off – I was too young to even be considered for that sort of job, and if I did get it, alarm bells would go off within the company, and would eventually filter back down to Manticore.

"Lexy," Tawny pushed a bowl of take away curry towards me. "You okay?"

I poured my soda – lemon flavoured, I had lost my taste for cherry flavouring – into a chipped mug and took a sip. "I'm fine. Just tired." I twisted the ends of my hair around my fingers, the ends lighter and brittle. I would need to take a pair of scissors to my hair in the next few weeks, or risk looking like a member of some freaky cult.

"You should get some sleep tonight, instead of sneaking down the fire escape," Tawny said around a mouthful of food. "You think I'm that out of practice, I don't hear you?"

"I think that you know that I'm so in practice it won't matter if I sneak out because I know how to handle myself," I replied, finally digging into my dinner. We had practically bought shares in the local fast food ventures – the most cooking we'd done since arriving had been limited to breakfast or instances of desperation. Anyway, fresh food was more expensive than fast food.

"I think you need to get some sleep, or you'll end up having a seizure on the streets somewhere," Tawny began stacking the dirty plates as I stared at the food congealing on my plate before swallowing another mouthful before taking the plate to the sink, where Tawny was washing the dishes with the gritty-feeling liquid soap.

"Hey, Lex, I wanted to talk to you about something." Tawny focused on scrubbing at the perfectly clean plate. "Look, what time do you have to go to work on Thursday?"

"The same time I always go to my mind numbing, back-breaking excuse of employment," I muttered, wiping the soggy dishtowel over the plates.

"Do you think you could get the late shift? We could get breakfast Thursday morning at the corner place." Tawny looked up at me and I smiled at him tentatively. Breakfast – maybe we could talk and make something work. "Milkshakes and pancakes sound good." Better than my staple of vending machine coffee from the newsagency and jelly babies; my intense dislike of coffee was overruled by how long my days were, and how I needed something to wake me up.

"Great." Tawny grabbed the stack of dry plates and shoved them in the cupboard over the stove. "I start at 6am tomorrow, so I'm gonna crash. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

I nodded, and dropped the dishrag on the counter. Maybe we could fix this, make it better again. I wasn't about to go to bed before midnight. I made some hot chocolate from some crappy chocolate powder I found in the back of the cupboard and watched a Mexican soap opera until the channel closed for the night, static breaking my concentration and sending me to bed.

I could hear the rain hitting my window as I wrapped myself in the old quilt and snuggled down, hearing the traffic in the street and people yelling out – Spanish, English and Mandarin; trying to translate the cries from the street below lulled me to sleep.

Tawny was gone before I stumbled into the bathroom that morning – his wet bath towels were on the floor, along with a pile of laundry I'd have to do when I got back from work. My own jeans were gritty and clammy, my zip-front top smudged with grime from the streets.

I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and an only slightly stale cupcake from a forgotten packet on top of the fridge, my boots left discarded where I'd kicked them off the night before, a post it with a note from Tawny stuck to the toe of the left one.

'_L – What ever I have to do to get you to do the laundry - consider it done. Laundry dollars in the freezer, stuck to the top. There's like, fourteen dollars there. And milk. Please, for the love of god. I'll get Mexican for dinner – T. _

I crumpled the note into my pocket and sighed. I'd take our laundry to work, and do it on the way home, rather that go back and forth.

A backpack heavy with more than two weeks of dirty clothes, towels and blankets, and laundry money jammed in my boot, I made my way to work, a subway stop away.

The subway was the most revolting place in America – it stank of sewerage, alcohol, vomit and about a hundred of the world's most disgusting scents. The homeless slumped along the walls, dead bodies were stepped over, and anyone could be attacked, murdered or molested at any second of the day. I kept my head down, my top's hood over my face as I stepped over a woman sitting in her own filth, clinging desperately to a pair of black-faced children. Any money I tossed at them would be stolen from them; it was really better for everyone if you just turned away.

The subways themselves were rusted and old, dried vomit and urine on the floors and seats, old syringes littering the ground and the odd junkie passed out. You could tell the people who didn't ride the subway often – they were the ones who went green from the smell. Everyone else wore gloves, even in summer, and maybe a mask, and heavy shoes. Some people bought newspapers before getting on the trains just so they had something to sit on, because newsprint on your ass all day is certainly better than the filth on the seats.

I would've walked to work if I hadn't been late, finding our laundry.

The fresh air hit me like a wave, cooler and fresher. My gloves were jammed into my pockets and I pushed the hood of my top off of my face, as I made my way to the news agency. Nancy, the other employee, had signed for the delivery and was knitting, the piles of unsorted newspaper pages fluttering in the air.

"Mister Webster's just gone to get himself some breakfast, Linda," Nancy s

miled blankly at me. "Put your bags under the counter and you can get started and all."

It was awkward in the back of the newsstand, putting the pages in order, rolling them and snapping the bands around them, listening to Nancy and Cal Webster, the owner of the newsstand, chatting, the smell of bacon and egg sandwiches wafting through the back area, the sting of the bands as they snapped across my hand, paper cuts and the scent of cheap paper and ink making my head swim a little.

But I'd been at this for awhile now, and I was finished before twelve, tucking the day's pay into my boots, and hurling my bags from under the counter.

"Thanks, kid." Cal nodded at me, the papers in their crate on the stand just next to him, ready to be sold for roughly what I made an hour – each. The economy was shit, and people like me were being screwed over every day.

"Mr Webster, I was wondering if I could come in late tomorrow." I offered him a smile, my hands jammed in my jacket pockets.

"What, six thirty?" Cal squinted at me. He was a hard looking man with a square set jaw and a crew cut, with wire framed glasses that sat on the end of his nose; he looked closer to fifty than his real age – thirty eight. I could understand why he'd been married and divorced three times.

"Closer to nine thirty," I said, praying I wouldn't lose my job. The truth was, there were heaps of newsstands in the city looking for workers, but Cal's five bucks an hour was top pay. My horrible job would be worse if I was only early three seventy five an hour.

He squinted at me again. "Take the day off, Linda. My girl Casey can come down for the day. Won't pay you for the time off though." Well, duh. "And I'll see you at six on Friday morning." With that, Cal and Nancy resumed their conversation and I was summarily dismissed.

I walked to the Laundromat near our place, not feeling like another ride on the subway. My Manticore senses made it stronger, and some mornings it was so bad, I felt like gagging. As bad as the New York City air was, it was better than being trapped in the rancid trains.

The Laundromat was empty, as I tipped our things into a machine and fed a few dollar bills into it, and had nothing to do but wait for forty minutes. And then another half an hour, as it tumbled through the dryer.

The market was pulsing with people as I made my way through, so hungry it felt like my stomach was tucking my back. A Styrofoam cup of watery but hot soup found its way into my hand, as I sat with my back against an alley wall, drinking it down so fast, I couldn't taste it and I could feel the heat in my stomach, as I watched people hurry by, yelling and swearing at other people, thieves running, their prizes clutched tightly to their chests.

"You're a pretty little thing."

I looked up, a man standing over me. Tall, neat and tidy, wearing a suede jacket over a clean black shirt – but I wasn't going to start trusting a stranger now.

"Waitin' for your Momma?" The guy bobbed down to my level, both hands in his coat pockets, his Texan drawl feeling like nails on a chalk board. My training flooded my brain unwillingly, but it was instinct; get the hell out now. Except Lydecker might have put it differently.

"Just resting for a minute," I was on my feet, my backpack on my bag, my messenger bag slung across my chest. I could defend myself, and there were crowds of people just metres away. Nothing was going to happen.

"Coffee break, huh?"

"Something like that." I fiddled with the strap on my bag, inching towards the mouth of the alley, Tawny's bottle of milk cold against my leg, even through my bag.

"Well, now you've finished your little break, maybe you and I can get down to business." His hand was on my shoulder, and my stomach felt heavy. I didn't want to cause a scene. I just wanted to get the hell out. I took another step backwards, his hand digging into my shoulder.

"Pretty little thing like you," he drawled, "Gotta make a living."

"An honest living," I said flatly. "I'm leaving." I jerked out of his grip, and moved quickly towards the crowd, but he managed to grab hold of one of the loose straps on the backpack, and I tumbled forwards, sprawling into the dirt in the middle of the crowd, feeling the glass milk bottle shattering under my weight and the shards of glass sliding into my thigh.

"_For an X5, you're as clumsy as hell."_

I bit my lip, stumbling to my feet, a woman hurrying to my side.

"You okay, honey?" Her eyes were kind, and I noticed a man and a girl following her - her family.

"The man in the alley," I blurted out, my hands out, the skin of my palm tore and bloody. "He tried to grab me."

The woman looked at me, and up to the man, still in the alley, the shadows covering his face.

"Girls like you shouldn't be wandering around places like this alone, even during the day. You got anyone waiting at home?" The woman examined the palms of my hands.

I thought about the depressing flat that needed airing and cleaning, quiet and empty.

"Yes. My brother," I said, ignoring the gnawing put of loneliness in my stomach.

"Far from here?" Her eyes were so kind. I wondered what it would be like being her daughter – safe and loved. The urge to ask her if I could come home with her bubbled up in my chest.

"Next street over." I pointed in the opposite direction.

"You run on home, and tell your brother and parents what happened. They'll keep you safe, sweetie." The woman smiled at me. I managed a ghost of a smile back and turned away, walking away from the open air market, the air rancid with rotting fruit, vegetables and meats. If the Texan followed me, I would just short of kill him, I knew that. I'm sick of being the victim. I didn't have to be the victim; I was born to be the heroine of the story… or something. Maybe in a jumbled up version of the story. Really, Manticore bred me to be the bad guy, the murderer, the assassin, the faceless, soulless devil.

As I dragged myself up the stairs to the apartment, I wondered if there was some kind of middle ground between victim and assassin; heroine and villain.

I spent the afternoon sitting in the dirty bath full of lukewarm water with my underwear still on, picking shards of glass out of my leg with my pocket knife and trying to resist the urge to scream. Or cry.

---


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Title:** Kiss That Girl

**Author:** Lexie Jayne

**Feedback:** Would be lovely if you feel inclined.

**Rating:** PG

**Notes:** This chapter was incredibly hard to write, and you'll understand why once you read it. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Chapter 12 will be online before Christmas Day, just to give you an idea of time frame.

**Warnings:** Language

**Disclaimer: **Lexy belongs to me. Tawny indirectly belongs to Kara. Everyone else belongs to James Cameron and FOX, even though they so don't deserve them. No profit is being made, I swear.

* * *

After sitting in the bath for most of the afternoon, with a collection of bloody glass shards next to me, trying my hardest not to cry and to stop shaking, I managed to limp from the bathroom to get my bathrobe and some bandages; my left thigh was now a crisscrossed mess of cuts and blood. We didn't have many first aid supplies in the apartment – we hadn't really had any need for them before now and had saved our money.

There was a slightly yellowed piece of gauze and a few pieces of medical tape left; it would have to do until I decided to work to the drug store to get some better supplies.

I crept around the apartment like the Texan was listening at the door. I didn't bother getting changed, but put my pajamas on and braided my hair. I folded the laundry I'd done and left Tawny's on his bed, whilst I waited for Tawny to return home; I jumped every time I heard someone walk along the corridor. Neither Tawny nor I had bothered to get to know our neighbours, and I'd only seen two or three other people who lived in our building, which had around one hundred apartments in it.

It was typical that Tawny would get home late that evening; by that time, I was practically crawling up the walls, I was so jumpy.

"Hey Lex," Tawny dropped the paper bag of our dinner on the counter and shrugged out of his jacket. "There was a freaking accident at the site; bloody wires were screwed the second we wired them in, there was going to be problems…"

"Cheaper is better," I shrugged, hovering close to him. "Did you fix it?"

"Nah. After fourteen hours, they stop paying us. If the freaking site burns to the ground, they deserve it. Hungry?"

"Starving," I said, slipping into the kitchen for cans of soda and some plates. We sat hunched over food silently for a few minutes before Tawny flicked a corn chip at me.

"You had an okay day?"

"It was long," I said slowly, taking a bite of my food. "But Mr. Webster is giving me tomorrow off – unpaid."

"You should relax and get some sleep; you look like death warmed over." Tawny leant over and stole some of my enchilada, his arm brushing against mine and I swallowed hard. Tomorrow, our breakfast was tomorrow.

"Like I said, I had a long day," I sat back and watched him eat most of my food. The thought of breakfast the next day had taken a weight off my shoulders; we'd sit down and discuss how we felt like reasonable adults, and how we'd make it work. Other people had made relationships work, even with age differences. We could do it. The cold feeling that had clenched my stomach since the market place was slowly disappearing.

"Get off," I shoved Tawny away from my plate, which was now half empty, and reclaimed my fork. "What time are we heading off to breakfast tomorrow?"

"I've gotta be back at work about 6am, so I'll meet you there at about 9:30," Tawny sighed. "Fuck, do you think that Zack will pull us out of here any time soon?"

"Doubtful, very doubtful. We haven't been here that long," I shoveled the rest of my food into my mouth and moved to stack the plates. "I'm going to crash. I'll see you tomorrow morning, 'kay?"

"Night, Lex. Try and sleep tonight, okay?" Tawny took the plates from me and kissed me on the cheek. "Love ya." I managed a shaky smile and went off to bed. It took awhile for me to get to sleep – between breakfast the next morning and the kiss on my cheek; I almost understood how ordinary teenage girls could moon over boys for months at a time. I snuggled into my bed and somehow I did manage to fall asleep – and I didn't wake up until after eight, something that never happened to me.

Tawny was already long gone by the time I stumbled into the kitchen for a cup of tea – there was no milk, of course – and my own clean laundry, which I'd left all over the lounge. I'd thrown a few extra things into the laundry – my nicest blue top and best jeans, which weren't exactly brand new or particularly good but they were the best I owned.

By the time I had gotten dressed and wiped my boots with an old bath towel I promptly buried in the bathroom cabinet, and combed my hair like I had seen other girls wearing their hair – plus unburied and used one of the tubes of lip gloss I had taken from the twins in Boston (it was a strange vanilla like flavor but the pale pink colour looked almost pretty on me, I thought), I barely made it to the diner in time. I rather wished I owned a dress or a skirt or some nice shoes, but I did the best I could.

I slipped in through the doors of the diner, tucking my hair behind my ear and scanned the diner for Tawny.

When I spotted him, I thought maybe I hadn't woken up this morning and this was one of those bloody dreams that kept me from getting a full night's sleep; not scary or disturbing, just dreams that bothered me.

A tall, thin girl with long, shining blonde hair was sitting beside him and they were sharing a menu, laughing. She was very pretty, I realized with a sinking feeling. Her blonde hair was held in place by a pale pink Alice band, and her outfit was clean and obviously new – a matching pink skirt, a white halter neck top and white patent leather boots. On anyone else, it would have looked like a Halloween costume. On her, it looked like something bought from one of those expensive shops I was always being thrown out of.

I bit my lip and managed to walk towards their booth, with the unsettling feeling that I was interrupting something private.

"Lex," Tawny looked up from the menu, and grinned at me. "Thought you'd forgotten."

I slid into the booth, pointedly ignoring the girl who was sitting so close to him, she was practically in his lap. "No risk of that; there's nothing to eat back home."

"Yeah – you didn't get any milk yesterday, like I asked." Tawny turned to the girl next to him and rested his hand on her leg. "Sorry, Brie, this is my step sister, Lexy. Lexy, this is Brianna Hamilton."

"Please, call me Brie. Brianna reminds me of my grandmother." She smiled across the table. "Tawny's been dying for us to meet."

I licked my dry lips and nodded. "Tawny… he says nothing but nice things about you," I lied, suddenly not in the least bit hungry and my leg began throbbing in pain. Maybe I hadn't gotten all the glass out of it. I should've checked last night. It definitely felt swollen. Maybe I should make excuses and go…

Before I could come up with a plausible lie – having already told Tawny I had the entire day off made it difficult – a waitress came over, and Brie and Tawny began rattling off their order, deciding to share something. I wasn't paying much attention, honestly. Inside my head, I was curled in a ball and crying hard, wailing life was unfair.

It wasn't that I was head over heels for him. I wasn't even fifteen, head over heels would come eventually, I knew. It was that for every major event of my life, Tawny had been my safety net. He'd never let me down, always kept me safe. And this new girl, who was everything I wasn't, from being his age and a blonde, to being very confident and stylish, felt like the ultimate betrayal.

I simply ordered a cup of tea – no milk, no sugar, just plain – half hoping Tawny wouldn't notice but really hoping that he would notice and realize something was wrong.

He didn't notice, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Brie, as she twisted her hair up elegantly and fastened a single clip into it to hold it. I caught sight of my own reflection in the napkin holder – my hair was already windblown and tangled; the lip gloss already gone. I looked like a kid.

The food came, more than enough to feed us for the entire day, and with all the plates, no one noticed I ate nothing, merely stirred my bitter, lukewarm tea around the chipped cup as they chatted.

"We've put this off long enough, Tawny," Brie's voice broke through my own half murderous, half heart broken thoughts as they both focused on me. "Ask her."

Tawny grinned at me, a full, easy grin that held nothing back. "Lex, Brie's from Canada, she's in the city trying out for some European ballet companies, and she's already got a scholarship for the NYC Ballet School, but they haven't got any rooms for her until next semester, so Brie's moving in with us for awhile."

I blinked and hastily took a gulp of my tea to put off commenting. She was a ballerina with Canadian citizenship. I might as well have been the thirty year old toothless hooker who hung out on Avenue A.

"Only if it's okay with you, Lex," Brie hurriedly added. "I don't want to cause any problems."

I put down my tea and I think that's really when I made my decision. I managed a mechanical-feeling smile and nodded. "It'll be fun."

"That's just awesome. I have to go call Mom, because she's been worried that I'd end up in some crack house in Brooklyn," Brie slid out from her seat and checked her watch – an amazingly tasteful silver affair that would have got me a few hundred on the streets. "And I have to go into the school to fill out some forms and stuff – I have an audition tonight."

"I've got to get back to work; I'll walk you to a cab." Tawny followed her suit, throwing down some money to cover the meal. "I'll help Brie move her stuff into our place this afternoon Lex, and we might grab something to eat in the city, so order out or whatever."

I nodded mechanically and as soon as they walked off and out of my peripheral vision, I put my hand over my eyes and let myself cry quietly to myself. I wish I'd been the sort of girl who could have gone to bed with him, who could have kept him and made it work. Been a few years older and a little bit more together.

I wiped my eyes with a wad of napkins and left the diner, my head down. I slipped through the maze of streets, only pausing once to buy a hair band and get a few dollars changed into quarters at a street stand.

I found myself in Tompkins Square Park just before noon – it was a mix of hookers, drug and arms dealers and the odd psychopath these days. Seedy, rusted and dangerous, I had made a point of never going there. Today, I felt like I might fit in. A runaway government project with severe emotional and abandonment issues with four dollars in quarter, a hand gun inside my mattress at home and an overwhelming aversion to sex? I was practically royalty in the court of the Severely Screwed Up.

I sat cross legged on a bench for hours. Three people approached me – a drug dealer who thought maybe I was after something and didn't know how to go about it; a weasel-y looking man with a beard that looked to me like a potential pedophile, the way he was leering at me and any other little girls who passed by the parks in the company of their parents, and a concerned whore, who offered me a cigarette and told me that the park was no place for a kid like me to hang around.

I didn't take the cigarette from her, but I did walk across the street to the pay phone, slowly, holding the quarters in my hand tightly. I already knew exactly what I was going to do, but I pretended I had a choice, that I could turn around and walk away at any moment.

I fed the quarters in slowly and dialed the number of Zack's voice mail and waited.

_This is Zack. Leave a message after the tone._

A completely non-descript message that was read off by a mechanical voice so no one could trace the voice patterns. All the messages we left were translated into a computerized voice, too – Zack was anal about safety, even giving us pseudonyms to identify us in the messages so that no one would hear anything suspicious and we would never have to actually say our location out loud.

"It's me calling, Alecia. Tony's doing great here," I said, my mouth feeling dry. "Me, I'm not doing so well. Its 3:12pm, I'll wait till fifteen minutes past, and then I'm out of here." I hung up and slumped against the phone booth and waited.

Zack returned my call at precisely 3:15pm. "Alecia?" he said sharply.

"I'm here." I clutched the phone tightly between my hands.

"You want out?"

"I hate it here, I want to leave." I knew I sounded childish and sulky and felt embarrassed. Zack wasn't into emotional manipulation. Well, he wasn't into being emotionally manipulated. He was happy to be doing the manipulation himself.

"But Tony's okay?"

"He's fine."

"I'll be in the city tomorrow, at dawn." And then Zack broke his own stick code of phone conversations. "Tinga needs help. You're the closest to her. Just you. If Tony's fine, he can stay where he is. If he's not, he'll go somewhere else."

"I'll be ready," I said and hung up before Zack could add anything else, and began walking. I had enough money left over that I could get myself home via the subway, my heart pounding and my thoughts running a mile minute; I never even registered the stench and horror of the subway.

I didn't even go straight back to the apartment – it was just past mid afternoon, and I was hungry. I didn't have more than a few dollars on me, and paused at phone booth to get some money. It was easy; I balanced the handset between my ear and shoulder, cupped one hand over the keypad as if I was just leaning my hand there, and used a pen knife that I carried to pry off the cover of the phone, leaving wires and the plastic money container exposed. Then it was the matter of scooping out money without anyone realizing what I was doing, and getting the casing back on. It sounded more complicated than it was – a variation of something we had been taught at Manticore as toddlers – and took around a minute to do. The phone box in question only held about six dollars in quarters.

Pen knife back in my boot, along with the change in my pocket, I walked towards a dingy looking deli that smelt of fried food, which sounded delicious. I ordered potato cakes, that were cooked to perfection and I'm sure were delicious, but I barely ate a mouthful; my stomach was churning with the anxiety of telling Tawny I was ditching him. At least I had the excuse Tinga needed help. I couldn't even contemplate what was wrong with Tinga. It felt like I was walking around outside of my body, and watching myself make decisions that I couldn't stop, couldn't change at all.

The sun was setting by the time I gave up on eating, and I headed back to the apartment; I had to pack my things and take a shower – god knows when Zack would bother stopping for rest and the like. And I should raid the fridge before I left. There was some soft drink left, and some stuff I could chuck into my backpack.

When I let myself in, a bunch of boxes and bags were stacked in the lounge room, all labeled as Brie's. I frowned as I stepped over one box and slipped into my room. I didn't have many things of my own – my collection of ratty clothing, a hair brush, a beat up paperback novel and a toothbrush. They were the only things I managed to drag from place to place – anything else got lost, stolen or simply forgotten. It didn't take long to cram all my stuff into a backpack, and I began to worry.

I took a long shower, examining the swelling on my thigh from the milk bottle glass cuts – there had to be more glass in the wound as it was purple and red and swollen. I sighed, jabbing the wound with my finger, before deciding that I'd have to find some out of work nurse or doctor to take a look at it. One of the cuts probably needed stitches, it was so deep. I ripped up an old pair of underwear to use as a bandage before wriggling into my comfiest pants and shirt. I made weak tea – still no milk, but I had lost my taste for milky tea now – and a sandwich of stale bread for dinner, before watching a Spanish soap opera.

Tawny and Brie came home late, smelling of Indian spices and laughing, and I don't look round, too busy following my soap opera, trying not to give anything away in my body language.

"Hey Lex," Tawny threw himself onto the couch next to me. "How was your day?"

"Tawny, I'm going to take a shower," Brie had left her purse on the kitchen counter, and it was only a little bit tempting to raid her wallet. Tawny would have probably stopped me, though.

As soon as I heard the bathroom door shut, I turned to Tawny. "I can't believe you told her your name. I can't believe you told her_ my_ name."

"What is up with you? She's sweet. I told her they were nicknames," Tawny shrugged and picked up the remote. "Chill. You're as jumpy as Zack, Lex."

I frowned as my Spanish soap opera changed to a black and white gangster movie. I could hear the shower running; there was no way the girl could hear the conversation I was about to start.

"I'm going with Zack tomorrow," I said in a conversational tone, reaching for the television remote that Tawny held loosely in his hand.

"What?" Tawny jerked around to look at me, dropping the television controls. I picked them up and before I changed the channel, one of the gangsters on the screen shot a woman four times. I went back to my soap opera and turned the volume right down.

"I called Zack this afternoon," I swallowed and pushed a strand of hair that had escaped from my braid out of my eyes. "I called Zack. From a payphone near Tompkins Square Park. He's picking me up first thing tomorrow morning."

Tawny stared at me, his mouth open. Before he spoke, I heard the shower turn off. I wasn't continuing this conversation in front of Tawny's girlfriend. I didn't care who she was, what she was, to Tawny; I would never trust an ordinary person. Ever.

I stood up and moved down the hallway, to my bedroom. My bag was in the doorway, and I picked it up and tossed it into the corner so that Tawny wouldn't tread on it. I could hear him talking to Brie – "Something's up with Lex's brother" – before he slipped into my room and closed the door. I flicked the lock, meeting his gaze.

"Talk to me," Tawny said quietly. "Why the hell did you call Zack?"

"I'm leaving New York City tomorrow," I said slowly, not taking my eyes away from his gaze. He looked almost … almost hurt. "I'm leaving and Zack's picking me up. He needs help with Tinga – I think I'm going to stay with her for awhile."

"Why did you call Zack?" Tawny blurted out and I looked away. "Lex, not because…"

"I think it's better if I get away for awhile, considering everything."

"Zack could use this to split us up for good." Tawny's hand rested on my shoulder and I tensed up.

"I don't think he'd do that," I replied softly. "I trust Zack. When it's safe, he'll let put us back together."

"When it's safe? This is Zack we're talking about, Lexy! It will never be safe enough to get back together, according to Zack. Odds are we're never going to see Jondy or Max or Zane, Lex, if we stick to Zack's rules." Tawny looked at me with a sense of desperation.

"Zack's always bailed me out, Tawny. I can rely on him. And if I play the game by his rules for awhile, maybe it'll work out to my advantage," I walked over to the window and stared down at the street.

"That's manipulative," Tawny shot back. "Why the hell are you doing this? Because of Brie? Lex, I can't just sit around waiting for you."

"And I'm giving you the space so you don't have to sit around. But I don't have to stay and watch," I turned around to face him and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Lexy, you aren't listening to me - You could never see me again. This could be Zack splitting us up for good," Tawny grabbed me by my shoulders and gently shook me.

"Look, maybe if this was just about you and me…"

"There isn't a you and me - Brie's a nice girl, you'd really like her. I want you to like her."

"Right. If this was about you and about me and Brie, maybe I'd call Zack back and tell him I change my mind. But he said Tinga needs help, and I can help her, Tawny."

"What about me?"

"You've got Brie. Plus two X5s in one place is dangerous. Three X5s in one place is a walking target."

"Moving target."

"Yeah. So…"

"So, you're going to go?"

"For Tinga."

"No because of Brie."

"Only a little bit because of her, I promise." I offered Tawny a thin smile, and he just stared at me, disappointment etched over his face. And then he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me, and pressing his lips to mine. I wound my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss before we both pulled away at the same time.

"We'll see each other again," Tawny said, his eyes dark. "We will."

I nodded and looked back out over the city. "Your girlfriend is waiting for you, Tawny," I said softly.

He'd already left the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *


End file.
